Congratulations, I Still Hate You
by sortasupersamm
Summary: Freddie, I hated you in elementary school. I hated you in middle school. I hated you in high school. So what in the hell makes you think living with me in LA will change that? Oh, right. Every time I said I hated you, I sorta... lied. Seddie 'n such.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: Uh, no. Owning a TV series isn't exactly my cup of tea.**_

Furious would be an understatement. Livid was the tip of the iceberg. Angry hardly described it. And as I sat there with a blank face, mouth agape, Curly only put her hand on her hip and looked at me with a defensive face. Her voice was innocent, almost accusing. "What?"

"I'm sorry," I snapped at her, unintentionally of course. But when Momma's mad… she's mad. "Can you run that by me one more time?"

"How many times do we have to go over this?" But she knew the answer to this question, even as she asked. "Freddie _and _Gibby are moving in with us."

Still, this had been only the billionth time Carly has still said this. Yet, I couldn't comprehend what she was saying. "Freddie, _maybe _I understand. But _Gibby!_"

"Yeah, he's sweet. And caring. Plus, he can carry his own weight. Spencer already talked to his-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa…" I slowed down, collapsing on our couch. "_I _didn't even agree to this. It's _my apartment, _too. Besides, it's only two bedrooms. I highly doubt that Freddork will be head over heels for the idea of bunking with the freak."

"Well…" She said in that tone that made me wince. There was always a catch. _Always a catch. _I get no break, do I? "…You know his break-up with Tasha has been… Rough-"

"Rough, as in 'dumps the little wiener for a football player and he cries on her doorstep for months,'" I snorted unsympathetically. It wasn't that I didn't like the kid. I did. But he's just so… easy to prey on. Like, would a lion go for the zebra or the other lion? Exactly. Carly shot me a look, telling me to shut up. "Alright. Sorry."

"Like I was saying, it's been really tough on the poor guy and… well… I just don't want him to go to college alone. And especially crammed in a tiny room with Freddie." The last part was shot out weakly, almost as if _fabricated._

"You," I pointed at Carly and she widened her big, brown doe eyes, getting up slowly and inching away from me. My blue eyes narrowed at her guilty face, cornering her into our cramped kitchenette. "There's something you're not telling me, is there?"

I patiently waited, allowing her to crack on her own. Moments passed, the only noise was my steady breathing and her frantic gasps. Her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pursed hard, trying to hold back something. I looked down at my shoes, glancing slowly and deathly back up. I saw that thread snap in her pupils, but before I could react, she lunged at me, pinning me to the ground hardwood floor of our apartment. "_Okay, okay! _You got me! I- I-" Her manicured grip on my purple sweater tightened. I could've reversed the position at any time, but we both knew I would never hurt her. She leaned down in my ear, whispering in a hoarse, scratchy whimper. "_I like Gibby. A lot._"

"What!" I shrieked, wiggling out from under her. Sloppily, I managed to work my way to my feet, still completely and utterly surprised. Sure, I saw it coming, but that never did stop the traumatizing reaction I had. "You! And Gibby! Since… Since when?"

"Since I had to take him on that date, back in eighth grade. Remember?" She was embarrassed, cradling her stomach and slouching on the kitchen counter. "At the Cheesecake Warehouse?"

"Oh yeah," The resurfacing memories hit me, giving me images of Gibby dancing shirtless on the restaurant table, the stupid dating game show on iCarly I refused to be apart of, and that _boy _Carly set me up with. "You made me suffer an entire night. _With Reuben._"

"Sorry," She mumbled into her jeans, wiping her mortified tears on her knees. "But, yeah. It's been four years. And I like a total… a total… a total _nub!_"

"Wait, if you liked him since then, why did you go out with Shane? Or Griffen? Or-" I was going to say 'Or Freddie,' but decided against it. "Anyway, it's cool. Sorry. I was just… shocked."

"So you're not gonna say I'm a blind loser who finds a tubby boy completely adorable and funny and smart and misunderstood and-"

"Let's stop there," I couldn't stand to listen to such mutiny. Gibby was just Gibby in my eyes. But I decided to make her feel better. "And no, I'm not gonna bash you for who you like," Because if she was in _my _head when I kissed Freddie all those years ago… Oh, Nellie. I'd still be in an asylum. "I'll just do it with Freddie when you're not around."

I tried to laugh and lighten the mood, but Carly looked up, a desperate look in her eyes. "No! You're the only one who will ever know, you understand?" In a softer tone, it was more of a halfhearted beg or a plea instead of a demand. "Please?"

"Fine." Defeated, I stalked off to my pile of boxes in the corner of our otherwise empty apartment. Carly stayed in the kitchen, fishing out plates and cups that we kept from Seattle. Carly was Disney-obsessed, so _everything _had Mickey Mouse's face or Tinker Bell on it. The few cabinets we had in there were opened and shut, Carly putting everything in its place. Together, Carly and I were paying each month's rent, but with Freddie and Gibby moving in, providing their own share, that made everything so much easier.

The box I was sifting through was filled with a bunch of iCarly memorabilia. The shirt I traded for those damn concert tickets was in there, since I practically bludgeoned Rip-Off Rodney to get it back. My infamous remote was floating on the top and I picked it up, pressing the top button. But unlike our little high school hobby, it didn't make an audience cheer or a man yell '_R-a-a-a-a-n-n-n-d-d-d-d-o-o-om da-a-a-a-a-n-n-n-n-n-c-c-i-i-i-n-ng!_' You could just hear the faint click of the plain, blue remote. "I miss iCarly," I called out to Carly, stirring in all our memories – good _and _bad. "You know? Maybe we should keep it going, especially since Benson and Gibster are coming down."

"Yeah?" Carly wondered, coming out of the kitchenette, holding two glasses of ice water. I had Donald Duck plastered on my cup, Carly had Cinderella. "I don't know… I'm going to be busy with college… And you're always gonna have meetings, rehearsals, run-throughs… Do we even have time to work _hours _out of our week to keep up with a silly kids' show?"

"You're right," I hesitantly agreed, drinking my water and tossing the remote on Carly's hot-red leather couch. Carly set our cups down and helped me dig farther into the mountain of boxes. "You know, sometimes I have this… regret…"

"'Bout what?" She asked, unfolding a zebra-print blanket and draping it across the couch.

"Well…" Trailing off, I rearranged the black coffee table to be placed _just right _between the large TV and the sofa. "This whole… school thing… I mean, not a single person in my family even had the _opportunity _to go to college. And here I am with a college fund, down the road from UCLA, and I'm blowing it…"

Carly stopped in her place, putting down the picture frames in her hand, and joining me on the couch, wrapping her long arms around my skinny shoulders. "You're not blowing it. You're an amazing musician, a beauty queen, a web-celebrity, a dancer, an actress and a soon-to-be-model! If you believe in yourself as much as me and Freddie and Spencer do, then you'll make it _big. _But right now, you're young and hot, so use that to your advantage. Worry about school once you're ready to settle down."

"Really?" I looked up at her mature eyes and smiled weakly, turning to hug her completely. "Thanks, Carls. It means a lot to me. But speaking of Freddie, when is that little fruit-sack getting here?"

"Him and Gibby have been driving down from Seattle since yesterday morning, and they're bringing all their stuff, and some furniture. Expect them around noon tomorrow," We both got up, working our way into the back hallway, where two rooms and a compact bathroom were situated. "It's getting late. We'll finish unpacking tomorrow."

I decided against complaining about them coming with me finding out on such short notice. We retreated into our rooms where our luggage was and I pulled out of my jeans and into a pair of Las Vegas boxers. Off came my purple sweater and on went a ratty t-shirt. Freddie's t-shirt. And so help me God, do not ask how I ended up with it. Because I'd lie. Anyway, Carly and I emerged at the exact same moment, standing opposite of each other. She wore a pink tank-top and matching black pajama pants. While she washed her face, I brushed my teeth. It was elbow-to-elbow in our tiny bathroom, but we managed. "So," She started, lathering her face with minty foam. "I haven't seen Freddie in _forever._ Sheesh, we graduated, then Mrs. Benson suddenly took him to Jersey without even saying goodbye."

"Y-e-oah…" I mumbled through a wall of frothy, cinnamon toothpaste.

"So what do you think he's like now? It's been four whole months, a lot can change…" Carly splashed water, accidently soaking my shirt through. She apologized, running to the living room to grab a towel. While she was gone, I took advantage of the free space and rinsed out my mouth. She came back with a bubblegum pink bath towel. "Here."

"Thanks."

"So what do you think he's like now?" She repeated, taking the end of the towel I was drying myself off with and wiping her clean face.

"I dunno," My voice was flat, almost avoidant. "Didn't care four months ago, don't care now."

She laughed, almost pitifully. "Oh please, don't give me that. But I think they're gonna be taller and have deeper voices and be all muscular."

I rolled my eyes, folding the towel and draping it on the rack on the shower door. "Dude, they hit puberty when we were sixteen. We're eighteen now. Not much will change."

"Well, you never know," She said as she stood in her bedroom doorway. "Anyway, good night. Love you."

"Right," I said, slowly shutting my own door behind me. "Good night, Carls." And there I was, standing in my dark room, a bed with no sheets on it, a pile of messy laundry in one corner, and the white walls bare with nothingness. I yawned, opening my phone to check the time. 1:47. Damn. It was late. And then my phone buzzed, reading: **1 new voicemail.**

Putting the phone to my ear, I waited for my message to play. "Hola, Princess Puckett!" _Oh great. It's him. _"Me and Gibs, here, are on our way down. We just stopped for gas and we're driving through the night. Expect us soon. So, uh, bye."

I shut my phone, flopping on my bed and tossing my phone away, landing God knows where. My laptop found its way to my lap and not taking my chances with disturbing Carly, I plugged in my purple headphones. I did the boring stuff, like updating my Facebook and MySpace pages, but when I got to my e-mail inbox, I froze. From Fredward Benson himself, there was a message. I hesitantly clicked on it.

_**Hey Shammantha! Gibby is taking his turn driving, so what better is there to do, than to e-mail my best friend? Hah, well, it's getting pretty boring. God, did you know that Gibby doesn't eat meat? So I'm stuck in a car with no bacon, no burgers, and no way out. ): Oy, save me from this rolling death-trap.**_I caught myself giggling over Freddie's dumb little e-mail. Blushing, I cleared my throat and continued on. _**Anyway, Sam, remember the last time we went to L.A.? When the Dingo Channel was stealing our ideas? Hah, if only it was like that. You and me were stuck in the back of Spencer's cramped little car, and we spent the whole drive playing checkers on my laptop, coming up with cheesy death threats for the Dingo writers, and eating our weight in canned cheese and fruit cocktail. I missed all that. It was one of the few times you didn't rip me to pieces. Haha.**_I remembered all that. It _was_ one of the few times I allowed myself to get along with the kid. And my teeth gnawed on my bottom lip when he mentioned he missed it. _**Well, it's almost time for me to drive, now. So I guess I'll call you (again) and leave you another voicemail. See you… tomorrow, actually. Love, though you don't want to admit it, Fredward-o.**_

_That little… _I growled in my head, closing the window and staring at my desktop background. Me and Freddie. At graduation. How 'bout that. _He thinks he can always toss that fucking 'L-word' around me, as if no big deal. He acts as if… I mean… _I trailed off inside my head, too cluttered with angry thoughts to think clearly. In the picture on my screen, Freddie and I were standing behind trees, smiling wide, clearly laughing in a candid moment. I was keeping his graduation hat away from him, holding him back while he was tugging at my graduation gown. Carly was halfway out of the photo, smiling, mouth open while she was fixing her hair. She was walking away from us, talking to someone else. It looked like your regular, old post-graduation photo, new graduates enjoying their new freedom and hard work. Looking closer, I noticed one of Freddie's strong hands tugging at my black sleeve, and the other one wrapped around my waist. Pulled close to him. _How had I not choked him for that? _My eyes were half closed, squinting from my laughter, but his eyes were wide and staring straight at me, almost _lovingly._

_Oh, no… _I thought quickly, opening an internet browser again, wanting to get away from that picture. _I'm not going to think too hard into a stupid picture. If there's one thing I can't do, I __**can't **__fall for this guy. He's… _And then I couldn't think of an insult. He wasn't a nerd anymore. After he joined his stupid fencing squad, he started trading his A/V clubs for sports. He wasn't a faggot anymore. To my dismay, he was on a date with a new girl _all _through senior year. He wasn't a wimp anymore. Due to puberty and a change in his eating habits or something, the guy traded in a thin frame with a full, _muscular _body. Eck. 

Subconsciously, I logged onto iCarly and stared at our home page. _What now? Watch videos? Update my blog? Post pictures? _Trying to get my wandering mind off of the Freddie subject, I clicked on my blog and read over my goodbye to iCarly. I explained that with Carly and me moving to Los Angeles, there wouldn't be any more weekly iCarly shows. Especially with our tech producer and annoying sidekick (Freddie and Gibby) going to Florida and staying in Seattle. I said that I was trying to make a life in music, modeling, and acting, and instead of a degree, they'd see me on the cover of a magazine some day. Before signing off, I promised I'd make sure that all of us would make silly clips here and there, when we could.

Spencer's said that he's staying in Seattle, just on the verge of making it big with his art, and that Gibby was moving in with him, setting up a life with Tasha. But they broke up – you know the story – and with a humiliating change of plans, he was my new roommate. I actually shuddered. Carly's said that her degree in fashion and merchandising would be the perfect jumpstart for her aspiring line, _Live on the Web. _Both her and her brother's blog was brief, merely facts, and what was going to be in the future. Of course, they said, they'd miss iCarly. But aside from that, it wasn't much.

Then I clicked on Freddie's blog for the first time in a while. And he had a video posted, titled "iCarly: Through the Years." I clicked 'Play' and turned up my volume. One of Freddie's favorite bands – Led Zeppelin or something old – started playing as a slideshow of pictures flashed by. Each slide lasted only a few seconds, but staring at photos of Freddie seemed like an eternity. And from start to end of the video, I watched all of us grow up. When we hatched the iCarly scheme at the teeny age of thirteen, we were all young and awkward. It was so hilarious to see Freddie when he was the shortest of the group, had that squeaky voice, and wore frumpy polo shirts with those awful black, bulky boots. Gibby wasn't around much when we were that young, so there were hardly any pictures of him. Carly pretty much stayed the same. But at thirteen, her hair was much shorter and her make-up wasn't as dark. And then there was me. Oh God, I was _awful. _Frizzy blonde curls, sweaters in bright colors, and wearing nothing but shorts I bought from the guys' section at Wal-Mart? Hah, no.

And halfway through Freddie's five-minute video, the progression was much more noticeable. Gibby was a regular at that point, and he was still the same goofy, sorta-cute-if-you-squint-hard-enough guy I knew to this day. But with a deeper voice, a _huge _stature, and slightly fit upper torso, he was more respected. Carly's hair was much longer, her fashion sense sophisticated slightly, and the childish features lingering in her face were replaced with elegant cheeks and full lips. Carly peaked at Freddie's height, her thin body fitting in nicely with Gibby's jollier, taller self. And for a brief second, the two looked perfect together. I smiled at the idea, but the slideshow wasn't waiting on me. A picture came up with Freddie and me, in bathing suits on the beach. I was burying Freddie in the ground, his lean stomach peeking through the grainy, wet sand. He wore dark aviators with his damp, non-fluffed-up hair covering his forehead, and his black board shorts were riding _painfully _low on his fit hips… _Shut up, Sam! Sure, he's hot. You can think that all you want. But there's no way in __**hell **__that you'll accept anything more than that. He's the Carly-loving freak that you've known since Kindergarten, that orgasms at the mention of computers. There is __**nothing **__more than that._

And then up popped a silly group shot of Carly, Freddie, Spencer, Gibby, and me at a restaurant, celebrating Spencer's twenty-seventh birthday. Still droning over the previous picture, I backed up the video slightly and paused it on the damned photo. Carly and Gibby were barely visible in the background, Carly in an itsy-bitsy teenie-weenie yellow polka-dot bikini and Gibby shirtless. Of course. They were both munching on ice cream cones, yelling at someone in the distance. Spencer, I remembered, who was provoking a crab. Hesitantly, I allowed myself to study my own face further. I was looking down at Fredward, sitting on my knees and letting sand rain down all over him. I wore a black bathing suit, underneath a ripped-up, baggy purple shirt. My usually blonde hair was darker, due to the saltwater dripping from it. We were smiling broadly at each other, laughing at Freddie's uncomfortable predicament. This picture got the most feedback in iCarly history, everyone commenting how hot we were individually, together, in bathing suits, as a couple, as enemies, you name it. Everyone had something good to say about our bodies, or my and Freddie's rocky relationship. It was awkward and weird for me and Freddie months after we posted the picture, but it was whatever. _Good, Sam. 'Whatever' is good. He is a nerd who probably has someone in heaven give God the good word, thus, an unhealthily sexy body. But, you've seen sexier. Right? Hah, yes. So why are you still bitching over Freddie? _

Feeling satisfied with myself, I allowed the video to continue. And I watched the photos and small video clips folded seamlessly into one another. Then it was over. A little part in me died, like having to see my saving grace – iCarly – end all over again. So I watched the video again. And again. Then again. And again once more. Each time, I took a few extra seconds to study that stupid picture of me and the dork, rolling around in the sand, smiling under the bright sun, each one with a terrific body. Then it would end, and I would be sitting on my bed alone, staring at the screen of Freddie's blog. _Pathetic, sheesh. You should watch the Pain Olympics or something. Be the old Sam again. Indulge in something revolting and morbid. _And I then clicked back on my own blog, looking at the comments, each fan excited about my soon-to-be modeling career. Which, in my opinion, would've never gotten off the ground, since I was only five-foot-three and had boobs. Eh, 'twas worth a shot.

The little glowing numbers on the corner of my screen read that it was nearly two o'clock, so I shut the laptop and climbed farther under my blanket. In less than twelve hours, I would be reunited with a person I was too afraid to stop hating. _Hah, I better get some sleep, then. _My iPod was in my ears – an angsty, skinny-jeans-wearing boy band whining over an acoustic guitar – and I turned up the volume as loud it would go, drifting off in the land of sleep. And, to my disgust, the last thing I was thinking about was the kiss Freddie and I shared on the fire escape all those years ago. To my greater disgust, I actually liked it.

**oOo**

There was a loud _thud, _followed by Carly's distant voice. My door shut and I had a headache, but there was no way in hell I was gonna open my eyes. And then I smelled it. Stupid Axe mixed with an innocent scent of fabric softener. "Get up, Puckett and welcome your long lost friend." The voice was humored and slightly threatening.

_Oh hell no. _"Can it, Benson," My eyes were still closed and an earbud fell out of my left ear. "In all our twelve years together, you _know _not to wake me up. Not in ninth grade biology. Not on the fourth grade class trip to Oregon. And sure as hell not in Kindergarten during nap time. So walk your little butt out of my room. _Now._"

"Correction," He said after a moment of silence. I could hear him open boxes and unzip his suitcase. "It's _our _room. And I don't think you're striking the proper tone to your roommate."

_**That **_woke me up. "What. Did. You. Say…?"

"According to Carly and the Gibster, we're sharing a room. So move your crap so I-"

I stood up, with bedhead and anger in my eyes. "_We._ As in _you _and _me._"

"Is that my shirt?" Freddie asked, a stupid smile on his face. Boxes were stacked next to mine, labeled **Freddie's Room **and **Tech/Computer. **But Carly was right when she was gabbing how he was gonna be different. He was more muscular, the sculpted leanness showing under his short-sleeve shirt. His voice was still deep, but more… alluring. Oh Jesus, help me now. He stood up, looking me up and down, laughing with his damn cocky grin. I had a new harbored hate for him already. I muttered a 'fuck you' before opening the ajar door all the way.

My shoulders were shaking with rage and my jaw clenched, searching for words. "_**CARLY!**_"

Something dropped, and the heavy patter of Carly's feet came running towards me. "What? What's wrong?" Her frantic voice calmed slightly when she saw no one was bleeding or fractured a bone. But it was still early in the day. "Why are you screaming?"

"I wake up only to find out that _**that-**_" I motioned to Freddie, who only stepped back and rolled his eyes before cramming his hands in his pockets. "-is my _roommate? __**Why!**_"

"Well…" Her voice trailed off as she rocked on her heels. "You see, I just thought that Gibby could use a neat and tidy roommate to help him function through his rough break-up… I'm sorry… It was last minute."

"You better be sorry." I narrowed my eyes, and Carly only smiled. She knew I wasn't serious. Gibby was calling for Carly, and his deep voice matched perfectly with my vision of him as a _giant. _I turned back at Freddie, who had his head dangling to the side, a sarcastic look on his face.

"Look, I'm not thrilled about this either, so-"

"Enough!" I stopped him, holding my hand up. "You're on the couch now. And have a good life."

"There's no way in hell I'll sleep on the couch. Why don't you?" He challenged, forgetting I was there – in underwear and in _his _article of clothing – and starting to drag his boxes farther into the side opposite to my bed.

"_Watch it_ _Freddifer,_" I snarled, confused on what course of action to take. Although his back was turned, I could picture him rolling his eyes. "And there's no way I'm gonna spend my prime years rotting away on a damn loveseat. So, pack up your shit and haul out."

He dropped some of his stuff back into the boxes and turned around, face blank and voice flat. "Nahhh. Not in the mood. Maybe later."

I hated his attitude. I hated how he left me speechless. I hated his damn sexy body. I hated his nerd-like possessions contaminating my living space. I hated _everything _about him since I opened my eyes. But… deep down, I _liked _his feistiness. His edginess. The way his muscles flexed on their own when he shifted the boxes around. I hated everything. I liked everything.

_Fuck you, Benson._

Although I was pretty sure I muttered that obscenity in my head, apparently I didn't. Freddie looked back from his focus on his crap, narrowed his eyes slightly, then pursed his lips – _pretty _lips – into a smile. "I'd love to, but I'm saving myself until _after _marriage. And unless you're willing to get down on your knee with a diamond ring and propose to me in the chastity of God, you're shit outta luck."

Within a blink of an eye, I was across our gap and pinning him against the white wall. Growling meanly, I looked straight into his… amused eyes. _The hell…? _And I found myself actually _struggling _to hold Freddie's arms to his sides. He blew softly in my face and winked. "You done, Princess?"

"Get your shit out of here!" I demanded, and he only countered back. Voices escalated, punches were thrown (me), punches were dodged (Fredson), and in a few heated seconds, Freddie's body was on top of me, pulling me to the cold ground. "_Fredward_! Get offa me, you bitch!"

"I'll check my agenda, then put in a request for your demand," He tried to coo out smoothly, but I wasn't going down so easily. He was starting to struggle to keep me from scratching or biting. Yanking violently, I managed to wiggled away my arm and use it to pull his head centimeters to mine. His face was flushed – I wasn't sure if it was from fighting me or being embarrassed or whatever – and I only shot dagger straight through his thick skull. "What are you gonna do now?"

"This," I raised an eyebrow before pinching him in the sensitive skin at the top of his spine. He let out a cry, but quickly looked back down at me, starting to sweat and glare back. My turn to be the douche. "I'm sowwy, did that huwrt?"

Two sets of feet were now passing through our doorway, and in the corner of my eye, I saw Carly with a shocked face and Gibby looking _huge. _Carly studied the situation slowly, looking from me, to Freddie, to me again, then up to Gibby. Freddie and I never moved an inch, too paralyzed with mortification to budge. Carly was the first to form words. "We heard screaming and thumping and we thought maybe you two were just fighting or wrestling-"

"Or having sex." Gibby butted in, causing me to eye Freddie and blush. Deeply. Fuck him and his innuendo. Carly elbowed him, and he muttered an apology.

"-so we decide to check it out. And here we are, looking at you two about to kiss or something!" She wasn't accusing in the slightest, just stating what she saw.

"Sam wishes," Freddie barked, climbing to his feet and helping my limp, embarrassed ass up. I looked at him slightly hatefully and threw a hard blow to his arm. He didn't move, but he winced. "But she's being bitchy and won't share the damn room with me!"

"Because there's no way in _hell _I'll ever share an enclosed space with you!" I turned to face him, head on. He did the same, looking ready to pounce. Carly ran in between us and pressed her palms against each one of our chests, begging for us to back down. I hesitated for a moment, before relaxing. Freddie did the same.

"What's so wrong with sharing with Freddie?" Gibby asked, stepping in closer to the group.

"Yeah," Freddie chimed in, crossing his arms over his chest. "What's so nauseating about having me as a roommate? I mean, I'm not a slob – I'm cleaner than _you! _And don't be worried about me 'nerding up' your bachelorette pad," He walked over to his computer box, tipping it so I could see inside. "Just a desktop computer, a stereo system, and a fucking TV. Oh no, how uncouth!" He dramatically threw his hands in the air. "So I have no clue what your problem is."

_Neither do I. _

_Wait, what? You're giving in! Oh, Sam Sam Sam Sam… No… But, eh. It's better to accept than to fight every five seconds. Right? You have better things to do than to bicker with a dork._

"You know what? I'm sorry," The words stung to say, but hey, I had to say them some time. Freddie's eyes widened, almost skeptically, and he tensed. "Unpack your crap. Get settled."

"Wait," He stopped, raising one of his damn eyebrows. "You're giving in?" I nodded. "So easily?" I nodded again. "Well, thanks, then." It was that simple – that easy – and it felt like a red-hot poker in my chest. And watching him go back to his settling in was a blur, since I spun around on my heel and nearly sprinted towards Carly. I tugged her into the bathroom and locked the door behind us.

"What in your _right mind _made you conceive this train-wreck of an idea?" I hissed quietly, gripping the side of the sink and staring into her guilty eyes.

"Well," And there we went with the 'well's' again. They made me sick. "Remember what I told you about _you know who?_"

"Gibby?" I clarified, but she threw me against the door and pressed her hand against my mouth.

"_Shhh!_" Her eyes were scared, and I nodded, then slowly pushed her off of me. "Well… I thought this would be a good opportunity… to, y'know, make a move…"

"Making a move would be considered asking him to dinner or leaning your head against him while watching a movie," I argued bitterly, ignoring the hurt on her face. "But sharing a _room _with him is the perfect set-up for a late-night hook-up and a broken heart the next day."

Her eyes watered and her lips trembled. Immediately I bit my tongue and wished I could take what I said back. "Right, you're right. I'll move my stuff into your room and help Freddie into the other-"

"Stop," I whispered, pulling her into my arms. "I'm sorry, I was just… spiteful about all this. I found out _yesterday _about them coming, and this morning with Freddie moving into _my _room. I was still… in shock. What I said wasn't true. Sort of." I looked into her eyes, pressing her forehead against my own. At least she stopped crying. " Gibby is a fairly decent person and I know he won't fuck you over. Just… promise me you'll be careful with this."

After a small, stirring silence, she managed to choke out an "I promise."

"Good," I smiled and opened the door behind me. We walked into my room where Gibby and Freddie were watching us, confused. "What're you two boneheads looking at?" They averted their gazes, and Gibby slid past me, taking Carly with him. I heard furniture slide and bump around, and everything was back to the way it was when I woke up.

Which left me and Fredward. Wonderful.

"I never really did say hello or welcomed you, did I?" I said after a while, toying with the hem of my shirt. Freddie's shirt. Ugh.

He looked at me, smiling halfway. "Hey, I can't blame you, just your hospitality. Or lack there of."

I laughed, opening my arms and accepting his wide, oncoming hug. "Welcome to Casa del Sam. Er, Casa del Sam 'n Freddie, now, I guess." He laughed into the crown of my head. And my anti-Freddie voice spoke up, but I silenced it, damning it rudely to hell. Slowly, I let my guard down and blinked my eyes shut, enjoying the embrace of his longer-than-necessary hug.

**You liked? If you don't, why are you still reading this? If you do, cool. Opinions and comments and questions are all welcomed. I respond to almost everything, so give it a try. I'll be around here somewhere. Flames get printed out and pinned to my bathroom wall. Praise gets made into custom coffee mugs and little 3x5 index cards. (: So put that little 'Review' button to good use and insert your two cents. **_**Please?**_

**See that? I'm resorting to begging. So sad. Anyway, iCarly has been my obsession for a few weeks now and it's only now I got around to posting this little chapter. It's nothing much, but it's a start. The story will be up and rolling by chapter three, at most. I have a plot-ish sequence in my noggin, but for the most part, it's centered around the interactions of the four characters and outside conflict. Blah blah blah, you'll see it when you get there.**

**Cibby (is that what it's called? Carly/Gibby?) is a more recent shipping I've discovered. It's not considered a favorite, but it's definitely up there. Very sweet, very subtle, very straightforward. Which is good, since, as you can predict, the Seddie crap is gonna be… Eh, complicated. By the way, I mentioned something called **_**'The Pain Olympics' **_**in the middle of the story somewhere. Listen **_**VERY **_**closely to me, everyone: DO NOT FUCKING WATCH IT. It's just a video of drunk jack-asses cutting off their dicks in attempt to look big and tough. I kid you not. It's raunchy, tacky, and… Ugh. You have been warned.**

**My Freshman year starts on Monday, so expect updates… whenever. I don't wanna make promises, but I don't wanna leave you hanging. God, it's 4:52 in the morning and I'm watching **_**Elf **_**for the fourth time. I think I'll wrap it up now and leave you to review. I'm serious, though. **

**Your reviews are the Spencer to my Pak-Rat~**

**Love, though you don't want to admit it, Sam.**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: Roses are red, violets are blue, this disclaimer doesn't rhyme, so don't whine.**_

"Lift like a man!" I grunted at Gibby, struggling myself to lift the desk off the U-Haul. The brutal summer heat wasn't lightening the load in any way, shape, or form, so I was exceptionally bitchy. My fingers were sweaty around the wooden surface of the stupid desk, and I was barely getting it millimeters off the ground. It wasn't so much heavy, as it was impossible to get a firm grip on it. Gibby's face was reddening as he held in his breath. "C'mon! We're almost there!"

And eventually – twenty minutes and a few muscle pulls later – the desk was up to the second floor, through the tiny door, down the hallway, and into Carly's bedroom. Gibby and Freddie trekked off to fetch the large dresser that Freddie brought. Which was, to my satisfaction, _much _heavier than the desk _and _even more impossible to get a grip on. Ha-fucking-ha. As I bent my fingers to get the feeling back in them, Carly came in the room, handing me a cup (emblazoned with Minnie Mouse, if you must know) of lemonade and sitting slowly on her ice cream sandwich shaped loveseat. Even in a pair of short shorts, a blue tank top, and in an air-conditioned room, I was burning up. Hence, my lemonade being finished in less than three gulps. Carly looked at me, humored slightly. "You must've been thirsty."

"Well, I don't see you lifting heavy objects and carrying them up a flight of stairs in the scorching heat," I defended rudely. I rolled my eyes when she stuck her tongue out at me. "After they get the dresser and a few shelves, that will be everything. Thank _God _they didn't bring as many boxes as we did."

"Right," She agreed, appearing to study the walls with a close eye. "You know what?"

"Huh?" I munched on the ice, enjoying the freezing chunks in my mouth.

"Since all our stuff is still packed and everything," She suggested, lifting up the white bedspread on her unmade bed. "We should get a few cans of paint and color this place up."

My answer was simple: a sarcastic snort and a "No."

Carly furrowed her trimmed eyebrows, sticking her bottom lip out into a pout. "C'mon… _Why-y-y-y-y_?"

"Because one, we rent this place. Two, it's hard work. And three, it's not my thing." I explained, putting my cup down and fishing through Carly's boxes, hoping to hint that was the end of the discussion. It wasn't.

Her pout hardened, ending up inches from my face, pestering and harassing me to no end. "So? Please, please, please, please, _ple-e-e-e-a-a-a-a-s-s-s-s-e-e-e?_ It would make this place _so nice and pretty and warm and a home and-_"

I growled, giving in. Before I could say yes, Carly was yelling and cheering and celebrating. "So you better hurry up and go get the cans. I wanna get all this shit put away as soon as possible. Your guys' first days of college are in a week. And I've seen a few flyers for auditions and go-sees that I need to look into."

"Well, let's go get the guys and see what each room will be," She said, already up and looking closely at her walls, trying to envision the perfect color. "Go get them."

"_GIBBY! BENSON!_" I screamed, even making Carly cover her ears. In a matter of seconds, they were rounding into the room, still straining to hold up the dresser. Once they evened out enough, they backed into my room, placing the dresser along a wall and letting out a breath simultaneously.

"You rang?" Freddie asked sarcastically as he walked in, taking a gulp from a water bottle in his hand.

Gibby was right behind him, taking a sip from his own drink. "Yeah, what up?"

"Carly wants to paint the walls, so give us colors." I informed flatly, clearly making it understood that I wasn't gung-ho for the idea. We sat there for a moment, the others thinking about paint ideas while I enjoyed the cool air.

"The kitchen should be left alone since it's so small and cramped," Carly thought out loud. "How does that sound?"

We – as in _they_ – all chorused an agreement. After a longer silence, Gibby spoke up, proud of his choice. "The bathroom should be blue."

"Light blue with white stripes!" Carly chimed in, and that was what started a kick-off in argument of paint colors. Gibby thought of something, Carly tried to alter it, Gibby didn't like it, Carly got offended by his turn down, Gibby got irritated by Carly's defensiveness… And so on. I stood back and watched, laughing out loud about their argument over bathroom colors. Freddie was, too. Stupid bandwagon.

"We're making it pink!" Was Carly's new demand.

"I am _not _showering in a wad of bubblegum!" Gibby snipped back, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

Carly stood up and put her hand on her hip. "Then think of something better!"

"Indigo!"

"Cerulean!"

"Emerald!"

"Lapis!"

"Goldenrod!"

"Magenta!"

"Rainbow!"

"Now that's just stupid!"

"You're stupid!"

"It's just a bathroom!"

"Then let's paint it indigo!"

"No!"

"Then what?"

"Cerulean!"

And it just repeated from there.

After a while, it just got old. I screamed over them, making their argument stop. _God, why must these two fight! Wait… _I shook my head at the familiarity. _Hah, this must be how Carly feels about me and… _I took one look at the tall, buff sex-god beside me and my fist connected to his chest. "_Ow!_" He yelled, more annoyed than hurt. "Why'd you do that?"

I shrugged. "Because I felt like it. Now, the bathroom will be left alone, since we have stuff to hang on the walls in there, anyway," I looked at Carly, then at Gibby. "_Understood?_"

"Fine." They mumbled under their breath together. I nodded, looking around their walls, actually starting to _think _of wall color ideas. _Oh, Lord… I'm such a fruit-cup now._

"A nice pale yellow would look pretty in here," I breathed, actually starting to _enjoy _my choice. "Very warm and welcoming, they match both room sheets, since both are white… And it's gender-neutral."

Carly nodded, smiling. "Great idea, Sam. I'm starting to like it. And the living room will be…" She trailed off, brainstorming hard.

"One wall should be black, since the color scheme is a red-white-black mix. And we'll put some red and white stripes on there." Freddie offered in, looking like he was _proud _of his idea.

Carly and Gibby smiled and agreed with him, Carly mostly because he included stripes. I only looked at him, trying not to insult him. But I failed. "Fag."

"What?" He snapped harshly, standing up and looking down to lock eyes with me. "Am I not allowed to have good ideas, too?"

"No, you are," I said sweetly, Freddie looking confused slightly. "If only you were capable of coming up with good ideas."

"You know what, Puckett?"

"Tell me, Benson."

"I'm so sick of-" While he was on a heated rampage, I noticed a low murmur of snickers coming from the direction of Carly and Gibby. I snapped my arm forward, promptly putting my hand over his mouth. Freddie looked shocked, continuing to rant underneath my palm. I tried to ignore is warm breath tickling my skin and the feel of his lips moving… _Ugh, there you go again with your… You are so __**stupid. **__He may be cute, and his breath might be inviting, and his lips may have their own rhythm… Gahhh, I hate this kid… _

"What're you laughing at?" I demanded, staring hard at both Carly and Gibby.

"Oh nothing," Carly assured, her cheeks pink from giggling so hard. She and Gibby exchanged a knowing look. "Just… Nevermind…" I raised an eyebrow and gave another acidic look. I would've pushed further, but I didn't even want to know, deep down. I noticed my hand was still connected with Freddie's face and I yanked it away much harsher than I meant. Carly only stuck her hands in her pockets. "So our room will be yellow, the living room will be red, black, and white, so that leaves your and Freddie's room."

"I dunno," I shrugged, stepping as far as possible from the dork I was rooming with. "Bacon-colored?"

"And you thought indigo was bad." Gibby smugly butted in, hinting to Carly. She only clenched her jaw and rammed her elbow in his ribs. I had to laugh at that.

"I like…" Freddie stopped for a moment, trying to let a color come to mind.

"Nobody cares what you like." I said wisely. He only shot me a look, and I just shot one right on back. Then moments passed. Seconds turned into minutes. Minutes turned into five minutes. And those five minutes doubled into ten.

"Well, since you guys don't know what color, maybe you should go to the Home Depot and look at the options," Carly stated more than suggested. "And pick up the cans and supplies while you're there."

"Do we have to go so soon?" I whined, not wanting to go anywhere that required a foot stepped outside.

"You were the one who said you wanted to get it over with as soon as possible." Carly pointed out, getting up and taking all the empty cups scattered in the room.

"Plus I need a few screws and tools to put the furniture together," Freddie added in. "So let's get cracking." Then he pulled keys out of his jeans pocket, twirled them around his long finger, and whistled out the room. God, I hated him. He made the smallest, dumbest things look so… so… so cute. _You did __**not **__just say that… Goddamn… Hating him is taking a toll on my energy. And mental health._

**oOo**

"Dude, would you stop that!" I yelled at Fredward in his stupid truck. He was whistling his fourth loop of the Super Mario theme song and we were barely down the street of _our_ apartment. Emphasis on _our. _He turned to look at me, trying really hard not to laugh. I pulled my knees to my chest effortlessly, and then began to gnaw on my knee cap to restrain from killing him.

"What's the matter? Old school bothers you?" He ever-so-smoothly chirped out, flicking on his left turn signal. Instead of acknowledging him with a comeback or a snippy remark, I proceeded to count the number of times his turn signal blinked. I got to twenty-three before he broke the silence. "So you're not going to college?"

I snorted sarcastically, hugging my legs closer to my chest. "You were there, Freddison. In high school, I wasn't exactly college material. What makes you think I'll change?"

The last part of my little rhetorical question was barely muttered, and Freddie let out a small breath. "You never know. In the sixth grade, I thought I was gonna marry Carly and be in love with her my whole life. But look at me now: four years later and I've turned down _two whole _opportunities to be with her. And that proves anything is possible…" For some reason, I winced at what he said. I faced away from him, watching houses and an elementary school pass by. As we paused at a stop sign, I watched a young teenage girl with curly blonde hair sit on her porch with a taller guy who had brown, fluffed-up hair. _Shit on a cracker…_ For whatever reason at all, Freddie still sat at the stop sign, waiting for a few extra seconds. In that time, I saw the two kids laugh and talk, before she gave him a random punch to the shoulder. It was a hard blow, I could tell, and he stumbled back. His eyes widened, and she only smirked at him. Then we drove off again, and in the side-view mirror, I watched them kiss. Very innocent, very chaste, but I could tell the kiss _meant _something deep.

_I hate teenagers._

And when I thought I could drown in the silence, the static of the radio came on, barely letting through the broadcast of a classic rock station. While Guns 'n Roses played, Freddie drummed along on his steering wheel. _I hate trucks. _"So if you're not gonna go to college, what're you gonna do instead?"

I shrugged as we finally got on the highway and sped up, merging into the Saturday afternoon traffic. "Right now, it consists of acting auditions, performances at weddings, waitressing tips, and whatever go-sees I can book," The roads were congested, and Freddie rolled down the window to look at what was slowing things down. Instantly, the nauseating aroma of smog, sweat, and exhaust filled the car. "I don't know why I'm telling _you _this, though."

"Because maybe I'm your _friend,_" He rolled his eyes before closing up the window and turning the notch on the A/C up. "What's a 'go-see'?"

"In the world of modeling," I explained hesitantly. I wasn't too sure myself. Carly threw in the idea of Sam Puckett, supermodel, when she was drafting out the beginning stages of her fashion line. "It's sort of like… You go see a designer. Show them your portfolio, runway walk in a sample of their clothing line, and take a few pictures for them… You know, all that junk. And if they like you, you work for them. If not, then you're shit outta luck."

"Sounds…" He searched for a word that wouldn't end up in him getting castrated. "Fun… But you, Samantha Jordan Puckett, as a model? Who'da thunk it?"

"I don't care," Slowly, traffic was speeding up and we passed by a totaled car and an ambulance. After it was long gone behind us, we were zooming along just fine. "It was Carly's idea, anyway. I won't even be all that successful, so it doesn't matter."

"Why not? You're pretty. You'll do fine." I cringed at his words, wishing I could shove them down his throat again. _God, why does this kid have to be fucking __**nice**__ when he's oblivious? Nevermind my fluttering stomach when he called me pretty. Shitty shitty shit fuck… __**No. I don't like him. He's hot. He's nice. He's charming. He has a nerdy, safe presence. **__But that doesn't mean that I like him. I mean, last time I checked, I hate the kid. Hated the kid… Fuck._ And then I heard that damn Super Mario theme song again.

"_Dammit, Benson!_" I all but yelled, snapping my neck in his direction, glaring coldly.

He only looked at me, sort of smiling, but completely shocked. "Okay, okay, fine. No need to be hostile."

"I'm not _fucking _hostile." I snarled, pulling my knees to my chest again, the sweat on the back of my thighs making my skin slick and gross.

Freddie laughed and pulled out of his lane and into the exit off the highway. "I rest my case. So anyway…" My fingers dug into my shin and I tried my damn well hardest not to think. I read the license plates on the cars ahead of me and held my breath.

"You never did tell me what _you're _doing for college." I said after Freddie never came up with another topic. I could see the orange sign of Home Depot in the distance, right next to Joann's, the fabric store, Target, a hair salon, and a chain of different fast-food restaurants.

"Film school, graphic design, computer apps…" He turned his head slightly and smiled at me. _Dammit, Heart, stop fucking melting. _"You know, all the nerd stuff."

I laughed a small, hesitant laugh, and we pulled into the Home Depot lot. There were a reasonable amount of cars, but Freddie decided to pull into the farthest parking space possible. "Did you _have _to park so far?"

He cut the engine and climbed out of the car. "Yup," I still sat there, starting to hate Los Angeles without air conditioning to bias my opinion. Freddie turned to look at me, patient as he has ever been. "You coming or what?"

"Yeah, yeah…" I slowly and audibly stumbled out of the large truck door. My leg was too short to reach the pavement, so I literally _jumped _out of the car. Freddie raised an eyebrow at this sight and I gave him a look to let him know to keep his mouth shut. "So let's get this over with. My mom dated a guy who worked at Home Depot, and let's just say they weren't decent memories."

"Who has your mom _not _dated?" He asked sarcastically as we walked shoulder-to-shoulder down the muggy air and into the cool sanctuary of Home Depot. Just like I remembered, it smelled like wet paint, wood, and plant fertilizer.

"Okay," We stopped right at the entrance, me jerking an obnoxiously orange cart from the row and throwing my purse in the child seat. Freddie pulled out a piece of folded paper from his ass pocket. And painfully, I realized I was staring at that region a little longer than needed. "I have the measurements of each room on this, so let's get the paint first. Then I need some-"

"Nobody cares," I interrupted to make up for my staring contest with his slowly sagging pants slide… down… his… _And there I go again with drooling over his dumb butt._ "Where's the paint?"

"Over there," He pointed down past the colossal aisles of surplus hardware, to the far ended wall of the entire store. And so I stood on the bar by the wheels of the car, used my left leg to push off, then glided down the smooth cement floors. Freddie, hopefully, was long behind me by now, but I glanced over, seeing him barely jogging to catch up, his keys clanking against his hip. I halted to a stop, Freddie repeating my actions and grinning a cocky little smile. Bastard. "Gotta be faster than that to win, Puckett."

He smiled a bright, straight-toothed, dimpled smile at me when I glowered down his deep, narrow eyes. "Fuck you."

"God, no more insults? All I get is a damning to hell or a 'fuck you.' Where is the creativeness these days?" He gasped flamboyantly. My grip tightened around the handle of the cart as we passed an aisle filled with ceiling fans. I could use one of those. Freddie picked up on my loss of words and grinned. "Now we're reduced to the silent treatment? What happened to the Sam I grew to know and love?"

"Look Fredward," I chirped, my voice strained. "Don't forget I can kick your ass."

"Why is that so hard to believe?" He asked with a sly smile. I only rolled my eyes and sent a fast one to his collarbone. He stumbled back, falling to the ground. A cashier turned to look at me, giving me a foul, warning look. I only stared right on back, telling her to shove it. Instantly, she turned away, regretting looking at me.

"Shut up and let's get this damn paint," I stretched out my hand, helping him up to his feet. He rolled his eyes as we ignored another witness' rude stares. We passed aisles of wood, power tools, panel samplings, and finally, we reached our long journey across the store. A long wall had different cards in every color of the rainbow. A chick about our age was standing inside the counter, looking bored out of her mind, and her orange apron had gashes of every color of paint. She looked up from a catalog, smiling wide at me and Freddie approaching her.

"May I help you?" She asked, sliding the catalog under the counter and fixing her apron, which had the name tag 'Whitney.' She had super curly red hair, lightly freckled skin, a heart-shaped face, and happy green eyes. I looked out the corner of my eye to Freddie, who was smiling at her and pulling out his paper of measurements. She was pretty, which made it much easier to hate her.

"Uh, yeah," Freddie replied, his voice friendly and deep and alluring as always. If possible, Whitney only smiled wider and brighter, taking the paper out of Freddie's hand. "We just moved into an apartment together, and we wanted to paint up the walls."

Hearing him say that made it sound like we were a couple. And that, as sick at it was, made me feel much better. Especially when he directed it at a beautiful chick practically drooling over him. "Well," She breathed, still turning up the flirt factor up a notch. _I hate sales people. _"I like how you have your measurements already. Most people have to guess, them come back later and complain they got sold too little or too much."

Freddie nodded, taking in this information. I backed the cart away from the counter, shouldered my purse and prodded among the different card colors. The murmur of the two giggling made my barf reflexes act in high gear, so I pulled my phone out and saw a new text message. From Melanie.

**Hey big Sis! I heard Freddie and that Gibby boy moved in with you and Carly. How is that working out?**

_None of your damn business, _I thought. But then I remembered having a conversation with my dad when I was fifteen, promising I would be nicer to her. So instead, I pressed 'Reply' and bit my lip.

**It's complicated. Stupid Benson is my roommate. How's school?**

Melanie attended Harvard, that big ego school for smart losers. Carly thought about applying once, but after getting into fashion, she decided not to. I looked up from my phone, hearing that Fredlumps and Whit-whore's conversation had _nothing _to do with paint. I could feel my hand grip harder around the paint card. The color was a custard yellow, and I sorta liked it. A few seconds passed and my phone buzzed again.

**Nothing to report. Gotta go.**

"Bitch," I muttered, snapping my phone shut. Melanie was always the TMI-type. You know, the volunteer way too much information type of person. She would talk for _hours, _and continue talking well after she finds out you're not listening anymore. If I actually cared about her, I would be suspicious about her lack of conversation.

"And we're talking to Melanie, I assume?" Freddie asked, approaching me when I looked up from my tiny phone screen. Freddie found out the one-hundred-percent truth about Melanie when she visited for Christmas last year. Let's just say he wasn't too happy. Melanie still had that ridiculous crush on him and at least Freddie didn't make a d-bag out of himself and ask her out to prove it was me. Because when they _first _met, Melanie cried to me and my mom for months about his rejection.

"What happened to your new girlfriend?" I hissed roughly, causing his confident smile to falter a little. I looked over to the counter, seeing no sign of her anywhere.

After a while, Freddie cleared his throat and put his own toxic venom into his words. "She went to get a can of sample paint. Why, is someone jealous?"

I swallowed, getting a strong urge to tremble. I choked it back down my throat and worked up the biggest could-care-less face I could make. "Uh, no. Get your balls out of your ego. I came to get paint to make Carly happy. Not see you bend over backwards to blindly impress some chick you just met."

"I'm not trying to impress her," He only softly replied. I shrugged it off, handing him my custard yellow card and asked for his opinion. "I like it. But it seems a tad bit dark. Let's look at a lighter, sunshine-y shade."

"How about this?" I grabbed a card named Sunshine Yellow. "It's bright and airy, just fine to me."

"Maybe it's a little _too _bright," He started, but I pursed my lips in his direction.

"Dude, I'm not gonna stand here for the next five hours and argue over a shade of yellow with you." I put a hand on my hip, looking out of the corner of my eye to see Whitney again, fiddling with a can of paint.

"Alright, alright. We'll go with the sunshine one. Now what about our room? I like purple."

"I don't care, bacon-colored is good to me," I actually started to thumb through the colors, in search for a color that fit my request.

"Well…" He stood by me, looking through different tones and shades of purple. "Dude!"

I looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"You brought all the iCalry crap, right?" I nodded as he turned to face Whitney. "And we have all those black lights?"

"Yeah, why?" Freddie practically sprinted the half-yard between the wall of colors and the counter. He was talking to Whitney really fast, and I could hardly hear what he was saying. I lugged the cart up to the counter, meeting Whitney's dark green eyes. She narrowed just enough for me to pick up on her equal disgust for me, but not enough for Freddie to notice.

"-have it in every color?" I barely caught the last of his question, but Whitney nodded in response. "Really? Well, then we'll take every color."

"What are you talking about, Fredward?" I asked, trying not to pay attention to Whitney's rough stares at me.

"I can rig the iCarly black lights to be our secondary light source, and they carry neon paint here, so whenever the black lights are on, boom. The walls will be glowing." I smiled, and I suddenly was excited about his idea.

"Dude, that's fucking brilliant," I laughed, giving him a high five. "We can totally not paint the whole thing, but actually draw and shit on the walls."

Whitney cleared her throat and I turned to look at her glowering right on through my head. "Sorry ma'am, but this is a kid-friendly environment, so we don't tolerate foul language."

I bit my lip, thinking of a kid-friendly thing to say. Freddie only grabbed my arm, reminding me not to kill her. I decided not to say anything, but suddenly, Freddie was the next to speak. "Whitney, come one. Less than ten minutes ago, you were complaining about working here, adding an f-bomb every other word."

Her eyes widened, and she gulped. I stepped forward and gave my triumphant smile. "Wow Whitney. Complaining to the customers _and _using explicit language. I feel so offended, I should go report to management."

"I'm sorry," She added quickly, starting to realize that I was no bitch to mess with. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I didn't mean it."

"Yeah," I snapped, pulling a five-year-old and sticking out my tongue at her. "Totally. Now, can we have those cans of neon paint now?"

Her fair skin reddened. "What size, ma'm?"

I looked at Freddie, who stepped in with his paper with calculations. "The smallest cans you have, please."

"I'll be right back," And then she was gone. I leaned against the counter, looking at Freddie, who was smiling up and down at me.

"What is it?" I asked, unable to hold back a laugh.

"You love being right."

"Because I always am."

"Look who has the big head."

"Smaller than yours," I smirked and he only joined next to me, and we sat in the silence, the only noise was the cashiers at the other side of the store ringing and beeping. "We never got the living room colors, you know."

"Do we really want to go with Carly's stripe idea?"

"No, not really. Too much work," I noted. He only laughed and asked for a new idea. I thought for a second and then I smiled wide. "Dude!"

"What?" He asked, and I grabbed his wrist, heading down towards my favorite aisle. We passed an aisle filled with paint brushes. We passed an aisle filled with paint trays and primer. And finally, I pulled him into the aisle I was searching for. He looked on the shelves and smiled. "For the living room?"

"Yeah, it's brilliant. Now, I can do this without having police officers up my ass," I smiled and started to pull cans off the shelf, looking out for mostly red, black, and white. "It'll be so much fun."

"Hah, no doubt," He agreed, helping grab more spray paint cans and walking back towards the cart. "You know, you can really be smart if you wanted to."

"Shut up," I rolled my eyes and dropped the cans in the cart, Freddie did the same then joined Whitney at the counter.

"Will that be all?" Whitney asked, putting each can of paint on the super-shaking thing.

"Sam, go grab the paintbrushes and trays and three cans of primer. I'll stay and order the yellow paint for Gib's room," I turned and trotted to the next aisle, pulling a piece of spearmint gum from my purse. I pulled four roller paintbrushes of the rack and put them in the cart. I did the same thing with the paint trays, grabbing ten and tossing them carelessly in the bright orange trolley. (Which they call carts in England.) I retrieved Freddie's stupid primer and put in the cart.

"That's everything," I said once I reached Freddie again. He nodded in approval and Whitney helped all the cans of paint into the cart. "Alright, let's go grab your stupid tools for the furniture."

**oOo**

"Dude, change the station!" I whined after the fourth classic rock song that I've never heard of came on the radio. "Something from this century or something!"

"Eric Clapton is a guitar genius, so shut your mouth," He only sighed in response, clearly annoyed.

"And I'm a kick-Freddie's-ass-if-he-doesn't-change-the-damn-station genius," I slowly turned to glare at him coldly. "So change it."

Instantly, his arm extended towards the radio, quickly changing it to the next station. A radio show host said that Lady Antebellum's song 'Need You Now' was next and I instantly grabbed Freddie's wrist, who was ready to flip to the next station. "Stop! I love this song!"

"Ugh, I don't," He groaned.

"What? Are you insane? Why not?" I looked at him as the song was starting to play.

"I hate it because it reminds me of you," He rolled his eyes and put on a blinker, turning into a Wendy's. "You want anything?"

"…_It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone, and I need you now. I said I wouldn't call, but I lost all control, and I need you now..._" I sang along, not noticing Freddie or what he was saying.

"Sam," He repeated.

"…_And I don't know how I could do without. I just need you now..._" I still sang along, starting to grow conscious about how I sounded to Freddie.

"Dude!" He killed the song and I realized we were sitting in a drive-thru. "What do you want?"

"Uh," I looked at the Wendy's menu, randomly choosing something. "Double Baconator with a large root beer."

"A number two with a large root beer, please," He requested to the order box outside his truck window. "Sam, check my messages and see what Carly and Gibby wanted again."

"Whatever," I turned the radio back on and hummed along as the song rang on. I looked at his phone and read off the message. "A chicken salad and a diet Coke for Carly and spicy chicken nuggets with a Sprite for the Gibster."

I focused back on the song as Freddie repeated the order to the box and we pulled forward, right behind a mini-van with the silhouettes of a bunch of kids and a mom in the window. "So how does this song remind you of me?"

In the corner of my eyes I saw his cheeks redden and his grip on the steering wheel tighten. "No reason. I mean… You seem like the country type."

"Dude," I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore my personal theories on why this song about a strained romance had a Sam essence to him. "I beat up anyone who wears cowboy boots or talks with a southern accent."

"Yeah, well…" And then he changed to station to change the subject. A familiar song came on the radio and I smiled. Yet another one of my favorite songs was playing.

"…_I said no more teachers and no more books. I got a kiss under the bleachers, hopin' that nobody looks. Lips like licorice, tongue like candy…_" I stopped singing after that. There was a certain p-word in that sentence that I hated. 3OH!3 was pretty epic, though.

"So, remember your first kiss?" Freddie asked with a heart-splitting smile and a quirk of his damn eyebrows.

"Nope," I flatly said, feeling the burning creep of a blush crawling over my cheeks. "I just remembered some dork that I kissed on a fire escape. He smelled like cinnamon and I kissed him because he was bitching over something I did to him earlier that week."

Freddie laughed, mainly to break the awkward silence. "Yeah, well, I kissed some blonde-headed demon because I was too afraid to tell her I was scared shitless of her."

"Mmm," I hummed as Freddie exchanged twenty bucks for the food order. "She sounded like an abusive bitch. Or did you kiss a guy? Because I have my suspicions."

"I've kissed Gibby," He laughed, and he merged back into the street, heading straight for home. Our home.

"And I've kissed Carly," But unlike Freddie, I wasn't so much as joking.

"Wait," He slowed down, halting at a red light. "You've actually kissed her?"

"Yup," I nodded, stealing a French fry out of the bag. "We were drunk and her boyfriend at the time was being a douche, telling to kiss and whatever, so we just went with it."

"The verdict?" He asked, driving on after the light turned green. "I mean, how did you like it?"

"You know Katy Perry's 'I Kissed a Girl?'" Freddie nodded and I popped another fry in my mouth. "Carly actually wrote it."

He almost swerved off the road from laughing so hard. I only smirked, looking at him pretty seriously. "God, sometimes I forget how funny you are."

I rolled my eyes and let out the giggle I was holding in. "I swear, Carly is the straightest lesbian, ever. But I love her."

Then it was silent again. Freddie switched it back to his stupid radio station, but luckily, The Clash was playing, so I knew the words. Traffic wasn't nearly as bad as earlier so we got to the apartment much quicker than we expected. My soda was half gone by then, and I really had to pee. As soon as we were in our apartment space, I was up the stairs with my root beer, through the front door, and past Carly, who was mid-sentence in a Welcome Home speech. After three minutes in the bathroom, I was relieved from the pressure in my bladder.

"So what are all the spray paint cans for?" Gibby was asking as everyone gathered around the dinner table, taking their meal.

"Sam had a great idea to use spray paint and vandalize the living room randomly instead of taking hours upon hours to meticulously paint stripes all around this room," Freddie explained before picking up his hamburger and shoving it down his gullet. I sat on one side of the square table, across from Gibby and next to Carly and Freddie, then grabbed my enormous meat sandwich and took a ravenous bite.

"Well," Carly said quietly. "That's a good idea, too."

"Sorry for switching it up last minute. I just thought this would be quicker and funner-er," I said the last word slowly, unsure if that was the proper word I wanted. "But we got you your Sunshine Yellow."

"What'd you guys decide on your room?" She asked, sticking a leafy, dressing-covered bite into her glossy lips.

"Fredamame had a pretty wicked idea to use neon paint, then rig some black lights to make the room glow," I mumbled, my mouth preoccupied with getting a whole bite of bacon and beef into my stomach. "It'll be cool to paint, since there's no guidelines or whatever."

"Well, finish eating, then me and Freddie will move things so we can get started," Gibby stated, sipping some of his drink.

"Then me and Sam will cover up the floors with newspaper and tarp and stuff," Carly added, stealing a pinch of my French fries. "And we'll do the living room together, then me and Gib will handle our room while Sam and Freddie do theirs."

**oOo**

"Here, take a can," I tossed Carly black spray paint, Freddie got red, and Gibby got black. I kept red and stared at the bare walls, images of various designs running through my head. The TV was put in the kitchenette, the sofa was covered with a huge sheet, and the whole floor was covered in newspaper. "I'll go first."

"Hurry up," Freddie was antsy, wanting to get destructive. "Carly, play some music." She plugged in her Pear Pod, then blasted Gwen Stefani. _Ugh, Gwen Stefani._ I looked at Carly, who was dancing around and shaking her can of spray paint. I smiled halfway, then took her hand and joined in her messy dance.

"Don't rush me," I snapped before aiming my can in the center of the largest, windowless wall we had. My hand was steady, my focus was strong, and my strokes were thick and readable.

**Fredward Benson loves dick! (:**

"Really, Sam!" Freddie almost yelled, shaking his can, the metal ball inside rattling loud. "Two can play at this game!"

**Sam has a penis, so she needs some reason to fuck me.**

"You guys!" Carly growled, shaking her can and even though hers was sloppy, it was readable. "Stop with the nasty words. Be nice, be classy."

Over my and Freddie's statements, Carly wrote **This house is ****so**** filled with love.**

Gibby laughed and added his own **This is an apartment, not a house. **

"Okay, now everyone split up and start decorating," Carly ordered, sending each one of us to our own walls. Even though the door and all the windows were open, and there were three fans circulating fresh air inside, the fumes were strong, making my eyes water and my head throb. "Does anyone like my flower?"

I looked away from my red alien drawing to look at Carly's black, first-grade level flower. "It's amateur," I shrugged, giving her a joking smile. I turned to see Freddie drawing a series of ovals and dots. "What is that, Benson?"

He turned from his nerd drawing and smiled. "It's an isotope."

I only looked at him, letting him know I thought he was a loser. "Dude."

"This is _our _apartment, so I should be able to contribute what _I_ want," He argued, taking the can again and squirting random gashes across the wall. I looked over at Gibby, who was alternating between the black and white spray cans to make an impressive mural of a nighttime skyline. Freddie walked closer to Gibby, who was on his knees, his tongue out and fingers covered in paint. "Lookin' good, Gibby. Where'd you learn to draw like that?"

"Oh, you know," He said after a while, his attention fully on his mural. "Being an underground kick-boxer gave me the opportunity to get down and dirty with the street rats of Seattle and learn their ways of destructive vandalizing."

I chuckled sarcastically and sprayed a thick red line across his back. "Kick-boxing is the coolest thing ever, and you _still _manage to dork it up." Gibby hardly noticed my work of art on his body, still smudging and spraying away at his work of art.

"Oh my God, I'm amazing!" Carly shouted suddenly, a still-full can of black spray paint at her ankles. She had a heavy-duty Sharpie in her hand and a thick outline of what looked like a pair of lips was in the bottom of the corner on the dining room wall. "Hand me some red."

I tossed her my can, and she messily filled in the lips. I laughed and wrapped my arm around her shoulders. "Since when could you draw like this?"

"Yeah," Freddie stepped in, wrapping his arm around the other side of Carly. _Why the hell am I breathing hard all because his arm barely just brushed mine?_ "Remember that bunny drawing she butchered?"

"Dude, yeah!" I laughed, actually laughing to the point of tears in my eyes. "And the volunteer fireman thing!"

"It was so sad!" Freddie laughed back, Carly pulling away, insulted enough. "Hey, we're sorry-" Freddie managed to stop laughing enough to choke out an apology. "-But it was pretty funny!"

"Hey," Gibby stepped in, his entire front side smeared and gashed with spray paint. "I thought the drawing was pretty cute."

I eyed a blushing Carly and smiled subtly. "Thanks," She said genuinely, shaking her can and pretending to act casual. "Your skyline is pretty cool." It was so weird to see _anyone _remotely as attractive as Carly flirting so pathetically with someone like Gibby.

Everyone retreated back to their walls, Gibby moving from his skyline to the night sky. Freddie and Carly were playing a game of tic-tac-toe on Freddie's wall, and I stared at my own wall, a UFO drawing, my and Freddie's messages to each other, and my half-finished bubble drawing of my name staring back at me. "Hey, turn it up!" Carly requested, and Gibby dropped his can long enough to grab the stereo remote and crank up the song that was playing.

"…_It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone, and I need you now. I said I wouldn't call, but I lost all control, and I need you now..._" The stereo sang, and I only internally groaned. Freddie was tensed, too, as I could tell. He didn't seem as enthusiastic about his game with Carly, and I could see those narrow brown eyes look in my direction.

I pathetically shook my head and aimed my spray can at the wall. I wasn't sure what I was drawing, and I could've cared less. _This song. Reminds him. Of me. How? How, how, how fucking how! And why am I thinking about it? Godammit. I've never called him drunk, and I've never stayed up until after two thinking about him… except last night. Wow, impeccable timing. I feel like I'm gonna hurl. _And I caught myself in the middle of constructing a giant red heart. Instantly, I snatched the black can in Gibby's hand and crossed it out with a huge **X**.

"Hey!" He shouted, approaching me, his size compared to mine looking huge. "I was using that!"

I only raised an eyebrow and held up the can to squirt a steady stream of black paint in his face. "Now you can rub your face against the wall."

He only stood in place, taking a breath and remaining calm. "Carly, please fetch me a towel."

**oOo**

"What time is it?" Freddie asked as he poured the last of the slimy bright green paint into the tray.

I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and ignored my missed call messages from my mom. "A little after six."

"If we work hard, we'll have enough time to rig the lights. Here's a paintbrush," He stood up and tossed me one of the brushes. "So let's get to work."

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, throwing the paintbrush at his head and pulling my hair into a ponytail. "Whatever tickles you pink." And I dipped my hands in the yellow paint and thoroughly coated my hands up to my wrists.

"What are you doing?" Freddie was watching me, his paintbrush dipped in the pink paint. "You're gonna make a huge mess."

"That's the point, diphthong," I barked, pressing my hands against the wall where my bed was supposed to be. We barely shoved the bed frame out the door, so we just covered it with a sheet, along with all our other furniture. I showed Freddie my prints, then wiped my hands on the sheet on my bed. "See? It's more fun."

"Alright," He shrugged, throwing the brush aside, then he cupped his hands, and took a handful of the pink goo. And he carelessly threw it at the wall, leaving a splatter design across the length of where Freddie's bed was. He smiled and turned to me. "Wow, that's actually pretty cool."

"Tell me about it," I smiled back, dipping one hand in blue and one hand in orange, then writing my name out with both. "God, I love making my mark."

"How about some music?" He suggested, the only noise being Carly's stereo from the opposite room, and Gibby's grunts of concentration. "Any requests?"

"Something from this century," I rolled my eyes, then copied Freddie by taking some red paint and tossing it along the wall connecting my side and Freddie's side. "So are we just gonna splatter paint the whole room? That's boring…"

"Get creative," He distractedly said, wiping his hands off so he could get his Pear Phone to play music. "I have faith in you."

"Creative?" I repeated, my lips forming a devious smile. I looked at Freddie's jeans and let out a laugh. "Hey, Fred, are those new pants?"

"Yeah-huh," He looked up, meeting eyes with me. I took my hands and dipped it into the purple paint, a nice bowlful of purple goop seeping through the cracks of my fingers. I could see him gulp and I could find the fear in his eyes. "Why? Sam, what're you doing?"

I tipped my head to the side and evilly chortled. In nothing less than a whisper, I called, "C'mere Freddie. I won't hurt you."

"Sam," His voice grew due to his panic. "Sam…! Sam! _Sam!_" And he turned to run, but his way out was blocked by the bed. I wrestled him to the ground, not using any hands, and I managed to get him in a straddling position. "Sam, Sam, Sam! Don't, don't!"

"Whoops, too late," I muttered carelessly with a grin on my cheeks. And I drizzled the purple paint all over his face and hair, then shoved the rest into the deep depths of his trousers. "You like that, Fredlumps?"

"Sam," His voice was soft – a little _too _soft. I watched him and his vegetable state of movement. "Sam?"

"Yeah?" Due to his quiet voice, I felt compelled to shush down my tone, too.

"I'ma kill you, mothafucka," And him saying that in his "tough guy" voice, I weakened my defenses by laughing. In less than three seconds, the positions were flipped and I was the prey, lying helpless under my predator's extremely strong, painfully delicious body. "Hey, Sam. Fancy meeting you here."

"It's your life you're toying with," I rolled my eyes, voice smug. But as soon as he pulled that red and blue paint closer to him, I began to worry. "Wait, Freddie… You better not."

"Or else what? You'll pour paint down my pants?" He shrugged and dipped his hand in the red paint, letting it hover and drip over my neck. "Been there, done that."

"You better-" And before I could get 'not' out, his hand wiped red across my face, and I could feel the repulsive taste violate my mouth.

And then that struck the start of another war.

In my most powerful fibers of strength, I ripped away from under him, taking the yellow and threw a handful at him, missing by some, leaving an impressive pattern on the wall behind him. "Freddie! Get over here!"

"Catch me, Puckett," I narrowed my eyes and he quickly squatted to get his hands into some orange and white paint. "Is someone still bitter about Whitney today?"

"Oh ho ho," I snarled, not ready to crack quite yet. "_It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone, and I need you now-_"

"Using a song that barely reminds me of you?" _Barely? Why did that hurt you so badly? _"Sad."

I could feel the unbearable steam escape my nostrils, enraged. Then I pounced, picking up a tray and throwing it at him, a shower of purple falling down. Then I ran and pinned him against the wall, the paint on the both of us swiping and smearing across any bare spot in our path. "You think- You're so… Tough." He grunted, but no matter what, the boy never stopped smiling.

"I am," Then I threw a punch, barely missing and hitting the wall, the paint with a twinge of my knuckle blood leaving behind its mark. "And that leaves you as my bitch."

"I don't believe you," Then he shoved me off and sent me to the ground. I looked up at him, covered in paint, my heart aching for a mystery reason, and his shirt ripped, probably because of me. And he stood on top, looking down his nose, acting as if he conquered the world or something.

_I hate you Freddie Benson. Your dimpled smile, your cozy truck, your strength that can finally compete with me… I sort of, kind of, maybe, indifferently, possibly hate all of it. Or not._

Then he laughed. Laughed hard. But it wasn't the successful, I-just-owned-you laugh. He knew just as well as I did that this was just like old times. And his hand reached forward, helping my skinny ass to my feet, then wiping my painted strands of hair out of my face. "I know that look."

"Oh really?" I intensified whatever look I had plastered on my face. "What is it, Mr. Expert?"

"That's your I-Hate-Freddie look," He smiled, stepping closer, his hand still there from pushing away the hair behind my ear. "I can't believe how many times I've gotten before."

"No chizz," I rolled my eyes, my face still peeved, but with that essence of happiness to it. "Freddie?"

"Yeah?" He breathed, to the point where I could feel his watermelon bubble gum breath.

"Why is your hand still attached to my face?"

"You know," He never moved, even after I started a fire in my eyes, trying to warn him to back off. "I'm wondering, too."

And then I sent my fist to his stomach, his damn abs as hard as rocks. He let out a gust of winded pain, then started falling before catching himself. "I win."

"God, I hate you," Yes, even as he said that, he was smiling.

"Ditto," Then he laughed, and gave me a hug, pulling me to the ground with him. "So, is our room done?"

"I suppose," I inched off him, looking up at our smudged and splattered walls, every color we had on their own distinguished section of the wall. We stayed side-by-side, looking at our dripping, fragrantly disgusting walls. "But come on. We gotta wire the black lights and build our furniture."

I groaned, allowing him to help me up. Then it was quiet again and I was surprisingly happy with that. But in my head, my thoughts were my enemy. _It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone… Blah, shut up. Not now. _

**Yo, yo, what up, what up? It's been about a month since I posted this, and I feel wicked bad. It's **_**not **_**gonna be like this. I'm not gonna post a chapter only once a month. But this chapter was two-thousand words longer than Number One, and **_**much **_**harder to write, so it took a while longer. You can have only so much fun with a twenty minute car ride and a Home Depot. But this was Sam and Freddie nesting. And that is the start of many things to come.**

**S'anyway, I originally planned for Sam and Freddie to kiss **_**twice **_**in this chapter, but then I was like, "Uh, no." My plan for the relationship to blossom is very distinct and specific. By the way, I feel compelled to tell you that this story is gonna get a bit intense. Drugs (but not in the way you could ever possibly guess), alcohol (it's set in college; it's inevitable), cussing (as you can tell), and… some other stuff, but I'm not sure yet. **

**Now the TMI section about my life: Nothing to report. (: Except, high school sucks. So **_**exhausting.**_

**As soon as I post this, I'm getting started on Chapter Trois. And want a hint? It's set in L.A. And what is another name for L.A.? Hollywood. Who else lives in Hollywood? **The graduates of Hollywood Arts High School****

**If you get my hint, points to you. If you don't, punch yourself in the face.**

**Well, I shall bid you all an au revoir. Love you all, and I swear to cheese whiz, you should leave reviews. My English teacher is intensely harsh, so I need a confidence boost. Please? And don't forget.**

**Your reviews are the bagpipes to my Mrs. Briggs~**

**Love, even if you don't review, Sam.**

**P.S., I was/still am way too lazy to go back and edit this chapter, since I've read and reread the whole damn thing so many times. So screw any mistakes. BUT BUT BUUUUUUUT if there's any contradicting information (because I'm a notorious bitch for doing that), let me know. Thanks.**

**P.P.S., I **_**will **_**marry Gibby. So I'm not "punishing" Carly for sticking her with Gibby. I frickin' squeal every time I see him.**


	3. Chapter 3

"_Sam!_" The only other female voice that resided in my apartment shook me out of my dreams, and I blinked my glazed eyes open to see Carly fully dressed and clearly pissed standing over my bed. "Get your ass up and in the shower!"

"Carly," I tried to hiss, but my voice was cracking from my dry throat. "What in the fuck do you want?"

My sheets were ripped off of me and the cool morning air hit my bare thighs. I shivered violently while letting out a loud, discontent growl. "Are you kidding? You have an appointment today! You _need _to get ready!"

"What appointment?" I rolled over, turning away from the clearly angered brunette and trying to succumb back into unconsciousness. "And the doctors can kiss my ass. I'm not gonna get my face caked so they can feel me up just because they have a medical license."

I could feel her smiling, but she forced anger back into her voice. "No, no! No doctors, no dentists… Didn't I tell you last night?"

Knowing that sleep was no longer an option, I sat up and blinked Carly into focus. "Clearly not, or else I still would've been asleep."

She pursed her glossy lips and sat by me on the bed. "I scheduled an appointment for you with one of Los Angeles' greatest, youngest fashion designers. You know, a _go-see_!"

_Dammit. _I was hoping this whole modeling thing would digress while Freddie and Gibby were moving in. _Guess not._ "How did you manage to get an appointment on such short notice?"

She smiled proudly and gave one of those fake-humble hand waves. "I actually put in a request several months ago, you know, when we were still in Seattle. I may have mentioned it before, but I never really thought about it until they responded last week."

_God, she's really serious about this whole modeling thing. I mean, I always thought this was some last-minute plan that would fit in perfectly with her glam fashion design life. Who'da thunk she was planning and scheming for this since Day One? Clearly, I'm not on that list._

"-making breakfast, so hurry up and shower, eat, then I'll get you all purdy-ed up." Carly finished, while I finally focused back into the real world. Then, before I could interject or ask questions, she was gone. Having her so excited about this plan made it that much harder to say no.

So I grabbed a towel, looked down the hall and heard all three voices in the kitchenette before quickly turning into the bathroom. The air was still humid and wet, so I knew I was the last one to shower. I took my ritual morning pee, grabbed my toothbrush, and got into the steaming water. It was only habit for me to take showers way hotter than any human pain threshold was capable of, so this evil morning was no exception. As I soaked my long hair, I tried to give myself a little (okay, _huge_) pep talk into going through with this.

_Imagine how hurt she would be if I just blew this off. I agreed to this and she took me seriously. She held up her end of the bargain, it's time for me to grow a pair and step up to my plate. _Carly bought me this expensive organic hair treatment that was supposed to make my hair soft and super easy to work with. Why did she buy it for me? One simple, predictable answer: all the successful models used it. So for her sake, I treated my hair daily with her hippie plant goop. But I must say, it does work like a charm. _Let's look on the bright side… Whoa. Optimism. That's a new one for me. Anyway. Imagine how much money I'll be raking in once I get the hang of things – all that money can get me a __**lot **__of food. And booze. And a hybrid of food and booze. _While I let the hair crap seep into my scalp, I lathered up yet another organic face wash thing that Carly bestowed upon me. _Imagine all the people I'll meet… Like I care. People suck. But whatever. After all these years Carly has saved from the consequences of my actions… Just go and see what it's like. All you owe her is to give it a try._

Content with my train of thought, I rinsed all the suds out of my hair and brushed cinnamon toothpaste around my mouth. In about ten minutes, I was thoroughly clean, but I was in no mood to get out of my steamy shower. So I stood with the beads of boiling water hitting my skin, the area around my neck and collar bone turning red from the heat. My eyes closed and I tried to picture myself with full red lips, posing in front of a camera, wearing Carly's clothes and making a heap of money. This cheap, cramped apartment would eventually turn into a condo. The condo will turn into a house. The house will turn into a mansion. Then Freddie and I could finally have separate rooms.

_But do I really want that? _

_Whoa, no. It's too early for you to be getting into one of those philosophical trances, Puckett. You haven't even eaten yet._

The fact I haven't eaten yet was the only reason I wasn't going to spend the rest of the day in the shower. I was clean, I was up, and Carly was probably in the middle of constructing my outfit for today. Which, if I might add, sort of scared me. Who know what girly, fancy crap she would put me in. Just because I was blonde didn't mean I was her little Barbie doll. I turned off the water, wrapped my towel around me, left my puddle of water on the floor, and turned into my room.

"Get dry! Hurry!" Carly was already shouting at me, having a pile of her own clothes on my bed. Freddie's desk was converted into a vanity, the wood couldn't even be seen with all the make-up, hair crap, perfume, you name it, piled on top, overlapping and balancing. I rolled my eyes and slipped on striped rainbow underwear under my towel. Turning away, I fastened on a bra, which was green with blue polka dots. I hated it when my underwear matched. Hoping Gibby or Freddie wouldn't barge in suddenly, I turned back to Carly while towel-drying my frizz of curls. She looked up from her pile, bringing a dark blue bubble dress with elbow-length sleeves that barely hit my mid-thigh. She held it up to me and bit her lip. "Too fancy?"

"Am I just gonna wear this?" I looked down. Sure, it was a nice dress, but that by itself was too much for a go-see. "How about that vest?" I vaguely gestured to a furry-looking white vest sitting patiently on top of the pile.

Carly turned her head and picked it up. "What, this 1981 faux-lamb open vest? Yeah," She walked over and added it to the blue dress. I raised my eyebrow at her specific knowledge on _clothes._ "It could work. We'll put this in the maybe pile."

"Okay," I walked to the pile, tossing around my options. I pulled up a teal pair of skinny jeans. "If we pair this with a loose-fitting shirt, a basic silver necklace, and…" I trailed off, trying to think of more options.

"And some oxfords!" Carly added, falling to her knees and blindly reaching under my bed for her shoe selection. Eventually, she came back up with a pair of white oxfords. "This outfit means business, but it still has a fun side!" She smiled, then began digging around the make-up for complimenting colors. I took that as my cue to begin dressing, and before my leg was through one hole of my jeans, the door was barged open. There stood Freddie with his keys in hand, meeting eyes with mine.

I yelped, feeling my face burn from embarrassment. I was in nothing but my delicates, in the process of constricting my body in atrociously tight-fitting pants. His mouth gaped as I backed up, yanking a random shirt off the pile and over my head. "Freddie! _Goddammit, _you need to knock!"

I glared hard at him, and his face was bright red and his eyes quickly darted to his shoes. Carly only stood up with a tube of mascara, scowling. "Freddie, get out! Sam, get dressed!"

Freddie looked at me one more time and I hissed out, "This never happened." And then he was gone, the door slamming behind him. Carly raised her eyebrows, warning me to proceed with my dressing. I grumbled and finished pulling the pants on. "Oh, no big deal. Freddie sees me half-naked for the first time in our lives and all Carly can think about is me getting dressed, paying no mind to my humiliation."

She gave an apathetic smirk. "He's seen you a bikini, right?"

"No, Carly. I've always been sure to wear a tankini or a one-piece. And every time I _did _wear a bikini, I wore a ratty t-shirt over it, thank you very much." I barked, standing up to button the pants.

"Oh," She turned back to her mixing and matching of blush and lipstick. "Well, there's a first time for everything. Now sit down. I gotta do your hair and make-up."

So I sat down in Freddie's swivel chair, impatiently letting Carly prime my face before smearing and dusting expensive-smelling pigments all over. One hand was fixed hard on my shoulder, while the other hand was determined to get my eyeliner just right. Carly blended and rubbed dark eyeshadow around my eyelids, then took a mascara wand and tugged my eyelashes farther and farther away from my face. Fifteen minutes passed before she handed me a hand mirror and declared her completion.

While she began combing and brushing out my wild, untamed hair, I looked at myself. With my hard blue eyes lined in mysteriously seductive browns and blacks, I felt… Pretty. Like, I began to feel like I should actually belong in the world of beauty, elegance, and smoke and mirrors. My lips were all glossy and shiny. My blonde hair began to smooth out and frame my face delicately. My cheeks were hollow and pink. And when Carly told me to close my eyes so she could spritz her hairspray, I did, only opening my eyes to see Freddie standing in the doorway, gawking subtly at my morning transformation.

I felt a lump in my throat.

Carly handed me my shoes, my sunglasses, and my purse. She smiled at me and bit her lip again. "You look gorgeous."

"Thanks, kid." And then I hugged her tight. "When are we leaving?"

"Freddie's taking you right now, actually." Carly informed me, handing Freddie a paper, which I assumed had the address of the place I was headed. I groaned in my head, wondering if Freddie saw my tattoo on my ribcage, or if he saw my beauty mark beside my belly button when he "accidentally" barged in on me dressing. He only smirked his mutual distaste for this plan, then turned on his heel.

"Meet me in the car, Sam."

"I'd better go," I turned to Carly, getting another hug before she pulled a clump of mascara off of one of my eyelashes. "Thanks Carly."

"I love you, Sam. Knock 'em dead." She smiled again, escorting me to the front door. Gibby made a comment on how I looked nice and I smiled. But I was sure he didn't see it. Freddie was waiting for me, leaning against the passenger door, arms crossed tight over his chest. I could see his muscles flex as he pushed himself off and opened the door for me to get in. I bit my lip and climbed – yes, his truck is so ridiculously _huge, _I have to _climb _to get in – inside to buckle in my seat.

Freddie pulled his aviator sunglasses out of his jeans pocket and slid them on before effortlessly getting in the car. "You ready?" He asked, looking back as he shifted into reverse.

"As I'll ever be."

**oOo**

We finally found a happy medium when it came to radio stations: silence. I didn't want to hear his stoner rock 'n roll music and he didn't want to hear my "cookie-cutter, mass-produced Top 40 bullshit." He got a punch, I got a threat to walk, and that's how we ended up with silence in the truck.

Freddie fiddled with his PearPhone, trying to navigate his way through downtown Los Angeles, while I played a bi-polar game with the air conditioning. It got too hot? I cranked it up. Oh, now it's too cold? Crank it down. The car's temperature was touchy-feely and I was getting sick of it.

"You know, if you keep the A/C fan at the medium speed, it'll keep things cool. You keep blasting it, then shutting it off," Freddie offered, still not looking up from his phone. I did what he said, and believe it or not, the loser was right. He looked back up at the road. "_Shit!_"

The car made a sharp turn and I rammed into the door, the handle jamming into my side. "What the _hell, _Freddie!"

Freddie only smiled meekly and eased back into a cruising mood. "Sorry. Wrong lane."

I tried not to smile, and I closed my eyes. Apparently, he heard my annoyed growl that I tried to keep quiet. "What's the matter?"

"Oh, first time jitters. Nothing big," I tried to deadpan the conversation, but he just kept going at this whole modeling thing.

"So who is your appointment with?"

I debated whether I should share this much with him. "She's some up-and-coming fashion designer about our age – super big already. Cat Valentine is her name, I think."

"I've never heard of her."

"Well _duh. _Unless you're hiding a little homo secret or something, I'm not expecting you to know much."

He scoffed in a humored voice. "As long as you're not _expecting _it."

Then it was quiet again. I could see the Hollywood sign from our spot in the middle of the mid-morning traffic jam, and it made me wonder why of all things to build, they chose the name of the city. Why not a tower, or a statue, or something? "So how am I getting home?"

"I'm gonna wait around for you to finish, we go out to lunch, I drop you off at the apartment, and I speed along to my Orientation." His voice was distracted, and I could see him still fiddling around with that damn phone.

"Oh shit, your orientation is today?" Little Freddie's first day as College Man was already here and that video of his growth progression flashed in my mind.

"Yup. Carly's is right now, as is Gibby's. I have no clue why mine is later, but whatever. More time with you, though, am I right?" Then he gave a teasing laugh and I found it hard to graciously join in. My cheeks burned and I found sudden interest in my finger nails.

Deciding that getting off that topic was most rational, I brought up what came to mind first. "So lunch. Where we going? Momma's starved." Food.

He snorted and glanced at me. "Of course that's what you'd be thinking of."

I felt a rush of self-consciousness. Was I putting on weight? Was I eating more than my metabolism could keep up with? I looked down at my curvy thighs and winced. He noticed my awkward silence and shuffled in his seat. "You know I didn't mean anything by that. If anything, I like how your appetite can keep up with mine."

"Yeah, well." I sighed, looking back out the window. I could feel him grip the steering wheel harder, which made me nervous. I hated feeling this uneasy around him. The rest of the ride was silent, Freddie occasionally opening his mouth to apologize, then closing it when I shot him a shut-the-fuck-up look.

"That's the building," I said after a long while, pointing to a brick building that was painted bubblegum pink and had a big, rainbow sign in the window. It was very young and hip-looking, which was so not my style. "Cat Valentine? Yeah, that's the one."

He parallel parked across the street and we just sat there for a little bit. "What time do you have to be in there?" He asked.

"Twelve-forty-five sharp," I recalled, pulling down the visor mirror and doing a quick hair and make-up check. "So I got ten minutes."

"Well, here," He handed me a black folder, and it was pretty thick-looking. "Carly asked me to put this together for you, and I did a while ago. I don't know why I haven't given it to you yet."

"Wow, thanks Fredward," I took the folder and opened it up. It was a portfolio filled with various pictures of iCarly promotions. They were all mainly filled with just me, but there were a few where I was with Carly or both her and Freddie. I decided to show him I was genuine, so I turned to him and smiled. "Seriously, thanks."

He smiled in his lazy way and rubbed his inner thighs the way he does when he's thinking of something mindful to say. _Whoa. I know Freddie's habits? Fuck me…_ "No problem. That's what best friends are for. Oh, and I included some of those professional photos that Carly made you do."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "God, she let that stuffy French guy suggest some _weird _stuff."

"Like what?"

"Like, he wanted me to pose with raw meat," I saw him wrinkle his nose in disgust. "I know, right? I love meat and all, but I'm not gonna stand in fancy clothes and dry-hump it for some French weirdo."

Freddie laughed, which I somehow joined into. "So, what else did he want you to do?"

"Well, um," I tried to think back to spring break over senior year and what that tall, lanky redhead made me do. "He tried to make me do some nude pictures."

"Wait, what?" Freddie seemed a little harsher in his voice and I bit my lip. "Some French pervert was trying to get a seventeen-year-old's clothes off so he could have a few pictures to take home?"

"It wasn't like that," I tried to explain, but feeling insulted that he thought I would put myself in that situation. "Just calm down."

He let out a breath, making a horse-whinny sound and looking out the windshield. "Well. Sorry. Don't know what came over me."

_Maybe only __**you **__want to see me naked-_

_Oh, shut the hell up, Sam. He's just playing the best friend/big brother role._

"Well," I collected my purse and pushed the visor mirror back up. I tried to be icy and rushed, instead of accepting his apology and graciously getting out. "I gotta go."

"Sam," He sort of pleaded, realizing my sudden change of moods. "I'm sorry."

I jumped out of the car and turned to shut the door. I didn't even know why I was upset. I just felt like getting angry. "Yeah, well, I'm not."

"Wait," He called one last time, my hand fixed to shut the door. "Before you go," He let in an insecure breath and smirked. "You look beautiful."

_… _I stood there, just looking at him. I could feel my face flush hard, and I bit my lip. Seconds passed as we just looked at each other. I tried to think of a way to save face after his little compliment, but I was drawn a blank. So I blinked and stayed simple. "Thanks, Freddie."

Then I shut the door and turned, crossing the street and standing outside the building. It was twelve-forty. My heart was beating in my ears and I started to panic. _What if she doesn't like me? What if she is a God-awful person? What if her clothes were ugly and no one would buy them? Should I tell her that? Do I be myself or do I play nice? God, I feel so ugly and fat and out of place._

Deciding it was best just to dive in, I watched my hand reach out and push the door open. I was panicking to the point of seeing everything as an out-of-body experience. I stepped inside and the smell of cotton candy smacked me in the face. It was a wide open room, walls lined with racks of clothing, mannequins standing tall and proud, showing off some insanely colorful clothing selections. I could see an archway that led farther into the back, where there was rustling, laughing, and music.

I stood in place, looking around and taking in the surroundings. It wasn't as childish and bubble-gum pink as the outside décor displayed, but a mix of sweet and edgy. One of the mannequins had a leather pleated skirt paired with a pink sparkle cardigan. A black, lace bra peeked out from underneath and I raised an eyebrow. The outfit was sexually intense, but so sweetly innocent at the same time. Who was this Cat Valentine again? I pictured a tall, rail-thin girl with pale skin, tattoos of cupcakes and skulls, and piercings everywhere.

Instead, a teeny tiny tan girl came walking through the archway. She saw me and flashed deep dimples with white teeth. Her hair was the first thing my eyes went to, however. It was _red. _Not like the natural hair that's actually orange. This hair was the color red, stretching down to the bottom of her ribcage. Her bangs were pinned back, revealing dark brown eyebrows, hinting the obvious fact that this red color was _not _natural. She wore super high black heels, a high-waisted, red, purple, and teal tie-dye short skirt, and a black short-sleeve shirt tucked in. The way she wore her clothes was _very _similar to Carly's.

"Hi!" She came towards me, throwing a dress over a chair, and opened out her arms for a hug. I gave a strained smile. Her voice was airy and high-pitched, and it was radiating with cheeriness. The only reason she was taller than me was the heels. Other than that, we were the exact same height. "You must be Sam Puckett!"

"That's me," It was getting really hard to try and genuinely smile. _Pay a compliment, _I heard Carly's advice remind me in my head. I looked around. "You have such a _great _shop, I love it."

"Psh-aw," She giggled, taking my hand and leading me farther into the shop. "It's just a little something I threw together. Anyway, before we begin, let's get to know each other. You hungry?"

My stomach growled, answering her question for me. "Uh, yeah. Thank you," She motioned for me to follow her to the backroom. It was insane: there was a gourmet kitchen on one half of the room; in the middle, there was an entire sewing station, complete with fabric samples, a half undressed mannequin, and at least three sewing machines. "So how long have you been in the business?"

"Oh, not long," She explained, unwrapping premade sandwiches that were cut into hearts and stars. "I just graduated from Hollywood Arts. Instead of college, I used my savings to open up this shop. The newspaper noticed me, and it's only been a success from there."

"Huh," I nodded, becoming so jealous how everyone but me knew what they wanted and what they were doing. _Jealous? Whoa, Sam. What's with all these new traits?_ "Hey, I've heard of Hollywood Arts. Didn't someone get a mega-big recording contract when they graduated?"

"Oh, my best friend, Tori Vega," Cat smiled, putting the platter of teeny sandwiches on the counter in front of me. "Tori's busy going all around the world, making millions and meeting new people. It's pretty rad."

"I'll bet," The one sandwich I popped in my mouth exploded with flavor. Seriously, I think my eyes started watering. "Wow, these are damn good sandwiches."

Instantly, I hesitated. Carly _constantly _stressed the importance of a classy vocabulary, and I totally broke that rule in the first five minutes. Instead, Cat smiled and took one herself. "You like 'em? My boyfriend, Robbie, made them."

So for the next ten minutes, we laughed and joked, nibbling on these too amazing sandwiches, and I relived the story of iCarly, which she was already a fan of. I explained Carly's sudden decision to throw me in the modeling world, which Cat was surprisingly understanding about. She was so sweet and kind, but I wasn't disgusted with her as I usually am with beautifully nice girls. In fact, I actually started to like her.

"Well," She picked up the empty plate and put it in the sink. "We'd better get you started?"

"Most def," I nodded, and she led me into the front room, going straight for the racks of clothing. "So what kind of stuff are you into designing?"

"Right now, my lingerie line is planning on coming out," I winced. _Lingerie? Will Freddie freak out? Wait. Why in the flying fuck do you even care right now? He is of no relevance at this moment. _"But I like anything, really. I'm pretty good at combining sexy with sweet."

I glanced out the window as Cat pulled a measuring rope out of her pocket and wrapped it around my hips. Freddie was fiddling around with his phone, looking completely bored. I felt sort of bad. "Okay," Cat stood back up, handing me a pink bedazzled bra and a lacy teal pair of underwear. "Try this on and we'll see what you can do."

She pointed to a room divider, which I got dressed behind. As soon as I took off my shirt, I felt cold and conscious. I replaced my mismatched bra and undies with Cat's mismatched bras and undies. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to leave my shoes on or off, but I figured I wasn't gonna trance around some stranger's shop, naked, wearing only shoes. So no shoes.

"Wow," Cat looked at me, checking out her outfit and how seamlessly easy it fit on my body. I tried my hardest to not cross my arms over my chest "You look fabulous. I'm in love."

"Me, too," Another voice said. A _guy's _voice. It was deep and sexy and as soon as I turned to see the owner, I think I died. A tall, dark, _gorgeous _guy was standing by the front door of the shop, his eyes narrowed and mouth easily smirking. "Cat, who's this?"

"This, Beck," Cat proudly motioned towards me, coming closer to fix my strap. "Is Sam Puckett. She's new in town and her friend set up an appointment to see me. She's _awesome._"

"Hi," I blinked, feeling my face creep up with heat, and I involuntarily gnawed on my lip. He smiled, his narrow, black eyes lit up, and he nodded.

"She _looks _awesome," And for the first time all day, I felt pretty. Like my body was being appreciated. _But what about Freddie? He called you beautiful. _I bit my lip harder and glanced out the window, seeing Freddie's profile in his truck window.

Freddie was tall, fair-skinned, and had lean muscle. This Beck guy was taller, tanner, and had rock-hard, melt-in-your-mouth muscle. I felt torn, suddenly. _What the hell are you talking about? You're not freakin' engaged to Benson! You can have a little fun. _I nodded, even though no one else in the room said or did anything.

"So, Sam," Beck smiled, coming closer to me. "Where have I seen you before? Because I _swear._ I recognize you."

"She's the iCarly Sam," Cat explained, raising an eyebrow at Beck, who was making flirty eyes with me. _Was he making flirty eyes? How can I tell? Oh, God. That fucking smile… _"And she's _much _funnier in person."

I smiled, nodding like an idiot again. "iCarly?" Beck repeated, still smiling that damn heart-stopping half-smirk. "I watched _all _through high school!"

"We're glad you liked it," I tried to smile while biting my lip, but it wasn't working. "Me, Carly, Freddie, and even Gibby are rooming down here."

"Ah," Beck nodded, then looking at Cat. "Anyway, I just wanted to stop by and say that the sushi bar opened a karaoke thing, and to see if you were into it," He turned to me and raked his fingers through his long, wild, sexy hair. "Do you sing?"

I _did _actually sing, and I knew I was at least decent. "Yeah, totally. I mean, I've never sang publically. But there's a first time for everything."

"Right," He agreed, and I could swear he was checking me out. _Well, you __**are **__standing half-naked in a pretty sexy bra and underwear set. Who __**wouldn't **__check you out? _"So, if I asked you and your friends to join us tonight, you'd say yes?"

"Absolutely," I said a little too quickly, smiling until my face hurt. "I mean, it'll be cool."

"Well, lemme get your number," Beck requested, pulling out a Sharpie and writing it on my hand. Cat took the Sharpie and did the same, smiling at me. "Well, I gotta bounce, but I'll see you tonight?"

"I guess you will," And for the first time, I _finally _started to act sultry and attractive. Not some smiling, giddy, nodding-too-much idiot. "Later."

Then he and his sexy self turned and left, and I smiled. He was totally sexy, smooth, confident, and dressed like a God. Instead of Freddie's American Eagle and pretty-boy bullshit, he was very grunge and dark and totally rad. _Wait, why the __**hell **__are you bringing up Freddie, again? The hottest, most mysterious guy in the world just asked you out and the first thing you think about is __**Freddie?**_

"Good luck," Cat smiled, handing me my own outfit. "He's really sweet, but…"

"But, what?" I wrinkled my nose, hoping to God that there was no extra catch to Beck. Oh my God, if he was just messing around, I was going to _die._

"Jade," She answered simply. "His ex-girlfriend. She's super competitive and _so _hung up."

"Well," I sighed, not sure what to say. "We'll see what happens."

"Right," She nodded happily, like everything else she does. "Now, let me take a few shots of you before we wrap things up."

She led me to a corner of the room with just a basic white backdrop, and she told me to stand there and just look. Cat held up a Polaroid camera, fixed my hair, and hopped off set. Before she put the camera to her eyes, she smiled. "Welcome to Los Angeles."

Then the camera flashed.

**Augh! D: **

**This chapter turned out **_**much weaker **_**than I planned. Seriously, it just seemed dead and boring. But I promise I'll do better next time. Like, for serious. Chapter Four **_**will **_**blow your socks off. I can promise you that. Seddie and plot development will **_**really **_**begin next chapter.**

**Oh, and be sure to check out the other story I'm starting. It's called **_**Three Is Magic **_**and it's sort of a rocky decision for me. I want to post it, but I don't like the plot one-hundred-percent. I think I will, and if you guys like it, I'll definitely keep it going.**

**One last thing: I also plan to make sort of a junk drawer filled with Seddie songfics and short stories. Angst, comedy, drama, love, hate, smut, fluff… All Seddie, all genres, all one place. Holler if you're interested. Okay? Okay. **

**Love, peace, and veganism,**

**Samm~**


	4. Chapter 4

_**(If you haven't figured out from last chapter, I'm gonna skip the passive-aggressive disclaimers. If you actually think I own **_**iCarly**_**, then you're delusional.)**_

"O-M-G, what!" Carly practically shrieked the second I told her about Beck and our plans for the night. "So you score a super-hot designer as your new best friend and a super-sexy god for your boyfriend!"

I couldn't feel my mouth twitch, despite my wide grin I held for the past hour. "Yeah-huh," I nodded vigorously, clutching her forearm. "_Goddammit, _you just _have _to see him!"

Carly and I decided to ignore the scoff that came from Freddie. He was sipping lemonade, rolling his eyes at every word I used to describe Beck. I looked at him from the corner of my eye, noticing how tightly his arms were crossed over his chest. "Dude, Facebook-stalk him!" Carly suggested, already hopping up and scurrying to her room to get her pale pink laptop. "What was his name?"

"Beck," It was so nice to have even his _name _in my mouth. _Whoa, that sounded wrong._

"Beck," She repeated, sitting beside me and blinking an internet browser to life. "No last name?"

"Didn't catch it," I smirked pathetically. _You should've asked for his last name, Sam. No, wait… That would make you __**weird**__, wouldn't it? "Hi Beck. I think you're super pretty and could I have your last name so I could look you up on Facebook with my best friend when I got home?" No. That's stupid. _"Try looking up Cat Valentine and search in her friends."

"'Kay," Carly typed and I looked over her shoulder. She clicked on Cat's dimpled, smiling profile picture and went straight to her friends list. I tried to look at the profile pictures, but I couldn't find his gorgeous face. Carly pointed to a Beck Adams, who had pale skin and super-curly blonde hair. "Is that him?"

"No, I told you. Beck is literally tall, dark, and handsome!" Carly nodded and kept scrolling down. We weren't going to give up.

"You two are pathetic," Freddie finally spoke up, finishing off the last of his drink. "I can't believe you two are stalking some steroid-using douche-bag's Facebook page."

I narrowed my eyes and stood up, pulling my white shirt back down my tummy. Yeah, that's right. I said tummy. "You're one to talk. At least I got him to _ask me out. _Unlike that redheaded whore at Home Depot last week."

"God," He mockingly laughed, narrowing his eyes at me. "That was a _week _ago and you're _still _bitching about that."

Carly looked up from her laptop. "What redhead?"

"'Member when we got that paint for the apartment?" I muttered, trying not to think back to that certain moment in time where I felt some sort of attraction other than hate towards Benson.

"Well, the chick at the counter asked for my number, so I gave it to her," He sent me a venomous glare, then turned to Carly. "And now Sam's shitting bricks over it."

"Am not," I hissed, looking at him with as much irritation as I could plaster on my face. "God, why can't you just shut up for once?"

"Puckett," He turned to me, and I clenched my fist to keep from lunging at him. "Is someone jealous because of Whitney?"

"Oh, hell no. I have Beck, who is insanely better than _you,_" I raised my voice by this point, and the rage I felt for him was getting under my skin and revving up my nerves. "So don't give me that pile of crap!"

"Then I hope you don't mind me inviting Whitney!" His neck vein was bulging at this point, which only happened when he was _livid. _

"Whatever floats your boat!" I turned around and stomped off, hoping to seek refuge in my room. _Dammit. _Our room. I slammed my bedroom shut, only to be faced with Freddie's bed, Freddie's smell, Freddie's music, all invading my space. I defeatedly fell against the door and sunk to the ground. "Fuck."

"Sam," I heard Carly barely say from the other side of the door. "Let me in."

"I'll pass," I choked out, trying to comprehend the water-like substance that was gathering in my eyes. "Go away."

_Why did he have to make me so __**infuriated! **__Was it against his religion to let me have a good time? He tells me to do the right thing too much. He makes sure I eat my vegetables before I get dessert. And now he's acting like an immature bastard because I picked up a guy so much better than him. _

_**Was**__ he better than Freddie? I'll be honest. I've only known the guy for ten minutes. Oh, whose side am I on, anyway? And why did he have to throw Whitney back in my face? She was perfectly pretty, no matter how much I wanted to kill her. God. Am I so bad that he goes from my best friend to some chick at a Home Depot, not even giving me half-a-look?_

"Sam," The door knocked, but this time it was Freddie. "Let me in."

"Cram it, Benson," I immediately shot my hands to my face, wiping away any evidence that I was _crying. _I don't cry. "Go have _Whitney_ let you in."

I could feel him roll his eyes, but I could feel his sympathy. "I'm sorry, okay? Sorry about Whitney and being a dick and for making you upset earlier at your go-see."

I rolled my eyes and slowly stood up, crossing my arms over my chest. He really did hate seeing me upset, didn't he? He was _way _too quick to apologize, anyway. "Fuck you."

He could tell I was smiling, and he knocked again. "Can you open up so I can give you a big snuggly hug?"

"No."

This time, he pounded on the door and raised his voice. "Let me into my own room, bitch!"

_That's more like it… _I smiled, unlocking the knob and motioning for him to come inside. "Why do I hate you some damn much?"

"It's the smile," He smirked, nodding his head in agreement with himself. "Chicks dig the smile."

"Well, not me." I smugly shot at him, but this time, I wasn't as hateful as earlier.

"You're way too stubborn," He laughed. "Come here."

And he pulled me into a hug. My crossed arms separated us, but eventually, his warm body heat made me let go and wrap my arms back around his waist. I smelled his American Eagle and Axe mix, closed my eyes, and call me crazy, but I did _not _want to let go. He was like a big, giant teddy bear.

Then he threw me over his shoulder like a rag doll, and despite my yelps and kicks, he carried me across the hall and into Carly's bedroom. "By the way," He grinned, looking down at me after he flopped me onto my back on Gibby's bed. "Carly wanted me to get you so she could get you dressed up for tonight."

What I thought was a sentimental moment between the two of us was actually my best friend using my other best friend to man-handle me into getting dressed up.

I liked their style.

**oOo**

"Two times in one day," I groaned, waddling from Freddie's truck to the sushi bar across the street. Carly put me in heels and a skin-tight silver dress. The sequins made me feel like a damn disco ball. "Carly, I'm going to smother you in your sleep one of these days."

"Shut up," She grabbed my arm and linked it with hers. "You look _hot. _Work it."

I rolled my eyes as she escorted me inside, where we were greeted by a surprisingly non-Japanese waiter. In fact, he was whiter than white. "Hello and welcome to Sakura Japan. Do you have a reservation?"

"Uh," I spoke up, stepping forward, trying to look past the maître de to find Cat's signal-color hair or Beck's gush-worthy smile. Neither one was in the crowd. "We're here to meet a few friends."

"Name?" He asked, looking down at his podium, taking out a pen and dragging it across something.

"Uh, Cat Valentine?" I asked, hoping the reservation wasn't under Beck's name, 'cause then I wouldn't be able to answer, since I didn't know his last name. _Shut it, Sam. We've already been through this._

"Mmm, yes," He looked up, picking up four menus and leading us through the crowd of evening diners. "Miss Valentine is in one of our private rooms."

"Righteous," I mumbled, trying not to fall as I baby-stepped in the damn stilettos Carly put me in. My overall grace was equivalent to a baby giraffe, but I managed to get to the VIP door in one piece. He opened the door and led the four of us into the room where, Cat, Beck, some nerdy-looking kid with glasses and a Jew-fro, and tan, tall, thin girl with long brown hair were sitting around a black table.

"Hey Sam!" Cat instantly jumped up, running over for a hug. I smiled, feeling sort of triumphant how I knew these people and my Seattle friends didn't. Cat looked at my dress and almost beamed. "Oh my God, I _love _your dress! Where did you get it?"

"Oh," I turned to Carly, who was sheepishly staring at her patent Mary Jane's. "Carly, here, made it. She is amazing."

"Really?" Cat turned to Carly with a wide smile. "The iCarly Carly, who is also a super-wicked designer? I love it!"

"Thanks," Carly, to my surprise, was dying with nerves. I could see her natural blush under her make-up blush, her mouth was twitching as she smiled, and I could see the intimidation in her eyes. "There's a lot more back home."

"I'll be sure to check those out," Cat raised an eyebrow, offering Carly a seat by her, and Gibby shortly followed after. Cat looked up at me. "There's room over there by Beck, so get comfortable."

Beck stood up at this point, and he offered me a hug and a quick kiss on my cheek. I think my heart popped. "Hi Sam. You look great, even though you now have clothes on."

We both laughed, but I could've sworn I heard Freddie growl. He cleared his throat and put sarcasm in his voice. _Oh boy. _"Really? He saw you _naked?_" I gave him a look telling him to shut his mouth before I knocked him out. He only smirked. "A nice guy like Beck _sure_ does seem to move fast."

"Actually," Beck stepped in, trying his best to be a gentleman. "Sam and Cat were in the middle of a lingerie fitting. I accidentally walked in."

"Oh, so now he invades girls' privacy?" I could feel the tension between Beck and Freddie, and I think I was about to faint. Freddie was never this _bitchy _when it came to insults, and I could feel Beck lose his patience. And trust me. Even _I _didn't want to rumble with Beck.

I clenched my jaw, shooting a look from Carly to save the day. Before Carly could nod and react, the brunette girl stood up, revealing how tall she _really _was. "Hi, I'm Tori."

"And I'm Robbie," The nerdy kid stood up, wearing an Optimus Prime t-shirt, skinny jeans, and despite his downright wimpiness, he was adorable. No wonder Cat liked him. "Who wants sushi?"

"I'm down," Carly confusedly joined in, tapping her manicured nails against the table. She started mixing her awkward laugh with her sentences. "You know. With raw fish and sea weed and whatnot."

"Right," Tori deadpanned, putting her hands on her hips and smirking. "Anyone want California rolls?"

"Sure," I shrugged, taking a seat to the left of Beck. Once Freddie sat on the other side of me, I realized how strained this night really was going to be. "You know what? Order me a drink."

The rest of the table just stared at me, trying to figure out why I could possibly think that an eighteen-year-old could legally obtain alcohol. Carly gave her save-face awkward laugh. "She's just kidding," The rest of the table joined in on the strained humor and I think I was going to barf. "Sam is so funny."

"So what brings you to LA?" Tori asked the four of us iCarlies, allying with me by changing subjects.

"I go to college down at UCLA," Carly answered taking a sip of her water that the waiter dropped in. "Fashion and merchandising degree."

"I'm just along for the ride," I smiled cutely, just like I always did when I had something socially unacceptable to say. I realized that neither Freddie nor Beck was going to verbally communicate with anyone, so I looked around for _something. _At the far end of the room, there was a TV screen and a microphone. _Oh, sweet Jesus. Thank you._ "Who wants to sing?"

Everyone mumbled in apathetic agreement and I think I stared crying. This night was going to suck all because Benson decided to get his knickers in a goddamn twist. "I guess I'll go first," Cat stood up, noticing my pain. I thanked her silently and she grinned. She hopped on stage and grabbed the microphone "Any suggestions?"

No one really contributed, so she just shrugged and hit the__**Random Select **button. She ended up with "Teenage Dream" by Katy Perry. The music stared and she cleared her throat. _"You think I'm pretty without any make-up on; you think I'm funny when I tell the punch-line wrong. I know you get me, so I let my walls come down. Do-o-own."_

I let out a cheer. I had no clue that someone as small as she could was capable of such a jaw-dropping voice. Seriously, I think Katy had to take a run for her money, Cat's voice was almost flawless.

"_Before you met me, I was alright; but things were kind of heavy. You brought me to life, now every February, you'll be my valentine. Valentine." _

She giggled, since that was her last name, too, but other than that, her face was strictly business. She ran through the song without any hesitation and when it ended, I applauded so loud. Cat was _brilliant. _"Oh my God, Cat," I laughed, smiling wide at her. "Can I, like, borrow your voice? For forever?"

"Okay," Tori put down her glass of water. "Who's next?"

"I'll go next," Carly offered, standing up and taking the microphone off the stand. She did the same as Cat and pressed the **Random Select **button. As soon as the song was chosen and displayed on screen, I think I popped a few brain cells. Carly took in a breath. "Oh boy."

The intro started, and Carly only blushed. _"Fergalicious, definition: make them boys go loco. They want my treasures, so they get their pleasures from my photo. You can see me, you can't squeeze me; I ain't easy, I ain't sleazy. I got reasons why I tease 'em: boys just come and go like seasons. Fergalicious…"_

I think I was hyperventilating from laughing so hard. Seeing Carly standing up there, shaking her bony hips and trying to act way sexier than she was capable was like a car accident. It was so horrible, but you just had to stop and stare. And holy shit, was _I_ staring. Finally, her song ended and she less-than-gracefully exited the stage.

"Okay," Carly smirked. "Fergie, all I have to say is to go suck an egg. That was so bad. I couldn't even keep up with the words."

"Yeah, kid," I laughed, trying to catch my breath. "That was pretty bad."

"Just like that bunny drawing," Freddie chimed in, and we both laughed together. When I heard Beck clear his throat in a strained manner, I forced myself to shush. Freddie clapped his hands together. "Alrighty. Who's next?"

"I think Sam, since she seems to be _so much better,_" Carly challenged, giving me a playful glare. I only smiled and stood up.

"You know what, Carls? Bite me," So I waddled all the way up onto the stage, trying not to fall and maintaining my confidence. But once I got that microphone in my hand, I was nervous. I looked down at Beck's encouraging face, and Freddie's teasing smirk. Suddenly, Beck shot up and grinned. He joined me on stage and I less-than-smiled. "What're you doing?"

"How's about a duet?" He offered, taking a second microphone and hitting the **Duet **button. Carly was beaming at me, but Freddie, however, was sitting from his seat, pouting like a little bitch. I stuck my tongue out at him, and he subtly flipped me off. I gave him a way-to-be-mature look. Beck turned to me. "You ready?"

"I dunno," I trembled, letting my nerves get to me once I turned away from my little mini-war with the Benson. "I-I've never really performed before…"

"Shh," He put his arm around my waist and whispered into the crook of my neck, so only I could hear. My head began to spin and I think I blushed. "You're perfect. You'll do great."

_Perfect! OMG, he called you __**perfect! **__That's more than any guy has ever said about you! Wait… Freddie called you beautiful earlier… _I bit my lip and looked down at Freddie. Instead of a tease or an insult in his face, he smiled. But I could see the pain and discomfortin his eyes. _What is he even hurt about? He had Carly, he had Whitney, and he's had all those cheerleaders throughout senior year. He's proven that I'm nothing more than a last-minute need to not be alone. He's rejected me without even trying, and now that I've found some super hot, mysterious guy who is actually interested in me from the start, he's bitching…_

Suddenly, Beck's mouth was moving along to the song I didn't even realize was playing. _"I can show you the world; shining, shimmering, splendid. Tell me, Princess, now when did you last let your heart decide?"_

He backed away from me, never letting go of my eye contact. I melted when he gave his stud-worthy grin, and his dark eyes radiated with something hypnotic. _"I can open your eyes; take you wonder by wonder. Over, sideways, and under on a magic carpet ride… A whole new world… A new fantastic point-of-view. No one to tell us no, or where to go, or say we're only dreaming…"_

I took in a breath, gaining confidence as he came closer to me and brushed his thumb across my cheek. I felt a strong reference that he was welcoming me to LA. My part was coming up, and I placed my hand on his hand, which still didn't leave my face. _"A whole new world-" _I was an entire octave higher than Beck, and as soon as Cat and Tori heard me, they let out an impressed cheer. _"A dazzling place I never knew," _I recalled feeling so pretty when Carly finished my morning makeover, and when Cat complimented me when I was in her lingerie set. All of that beauty and confidence was so new to me. _"But when I'm way up here, it's crystal-clear that now I'm in a whole new world with you…" _Once again, it felt like I was a part of a whole new world, me coming from a webshow in rainy old Seattle, only to be thrown in the glamorous life of Beck and Cat and all their friends.

"_Now I'm in a whole new world with you!" _Beck jumped in, really showing off his capability as a singer. He had that same seriousness as Cat when singing, but he was also confident enough to let go of any insecurity.

"_Unbelievable sights, indescribable feeling. Soaring, tumbling, freewheeling through an endless diamond sky! A whole new world!" _I stepped away from him, trying my hardest to progress my voice out into the microphone, while also maintaining a healthy oxygen level. I closed my eyes, trying to soak in this fucking _fairytale _feeling. Me and some hot guy hitting it off instantly? Yes, please.

"_Don't you dare close your eyes," _Beck sang, but managed to whisper. And although this was a scripted lyric that we were both performing to an audience, he was also saying it to me personally.

"_A hundred-thousand things to see!" _

"_Hold your breath; it gets better," _Beck at that point, rejoined to me, wrapping his hand around my waist and looking at me straight in the eyes. I completely forgot that there were five other people in the room, looking up at us, aww-ing and cooing. All except Fredward.

"_I'm like a shooting star!" _I lifted my voice up higher than I ever had, but by the cheers from Cat, Carly, and Tori, apparently, I sounded pretty good. _"I've come so far! I can't go back to where I used to be!"_

"_A whole new world-"_

"_Every turn a surprise-"_

"_With new horizons to pursue-"_

"_Every moment red-letter-"_

Together, Beck and I looked at each other and sang in harmony. His voice was deep and sexy, my voice was high and pretty. We were like our own fucking Disney movie. _"I'll chase them anywhere; there's time to spare. Let me share this whole new world with you…"_

"_A whole new world…"_

"_A whole new world…"_

"_That's where we'll be…"_

"_That's where we'll be…"_

"_A thrilling chase…"_

"_A wondrous place…"_

Our last lyric was together, and we finally looked towards the audience. My eyes met with Freddie, who had a proudly impressed smirk, but those eyes were only getting sadder. I never looked away as I opened my mouth. _"For you and me…"_

Carly immediately ran up on stage (how she managed to do so in heels was beyond me) and squeezed me into a hug. Her eyes were teary and she clutched onto my cheeks. "Oh my God, Sam! You never told me you could sing!"

"I didn't know I could," I shrugged sheepishly, taking another suffocating hug, but from Cat this time. "Seriously, I'm not _that _amazing."

"Actually," Beck stepped in, taking my hand and kissing it. Carly squealed in excitement for me, while Cat only rolled her eyes and smiled. "I think you were phenomenal beyond belief."

"Oh, well, in that case…" I bit my lip and our gazes never faltered. The air was definitely carrying something, and I could feel the need to lean in and kiss him. My body shook as he leaned in, and I thanked God that I brushed my teeth before we left.

Our lips barely grazed, and I felt my entire body burn. _Holy, oh my God, crap! H-He's __**amazing!**_ Fire spread from my mouth to my arms to my legs and all the way back up to my brain. His hand stroked my arm and I pressed my palms against his muscular chest – I could _feel _his heart race under his thermal shirt. After what was the most perfect eternity ever, he pulled away. "Sam, you're great."

"I-I," I blinked, smiling like a moron again. Everything about him was so _gorgeous_: his thick, dark eyebrows gave his tan face a hint of maturity, he had narrow eyes that were so dark, they were almost black, and his dark hair was long and messy. "You, too."

"Will I be able to see you again?" He whispered, leaning in again, pressing his lips against along my jawline. His hands were holding mine, warm and strong. My heart was beating and my head was dizzy. The entire room was spinning, and I barely nodded in response. He took in a deep breath, probably picking up the smell of hairspray in my blonde curls and hummed. "Good."

**oOo**

"So, are you two, like, a thing now?" Freddie asked me when we got home and retreated into our room. He was sitting on his bed and pulling off his black Chucks. His voice was soft, and if I wasn't so high on love, I would've sensed a little hurt in his eyes.

I looked at him and tried to reach between my shoulder blades to unzip the silver dress I was still constricted in. I wasn't, honestly, sure how to respond to that question. Beck asked to see me again when it was time to leave, and we spent a good portion of the night kissing, but we weren't a definite boyfriend-girlfriend label. Plus, for some reason, I didn't want Freddie to know that I was taken. It would sort of make _him _feel obligated to find his own girlfriend. And call me crazy, but I didn't want that. _Weird, weird girl you are, Puckett._ "I dunno… I mean, it's only been one day…"

"Yeah," He started to peel his shirt off, and the hard lines of his lean muscle were close enough for me to touch. I tried to replace his shirtless image with Beck's, but it wasn't as easy as I hoped. "Well, you were a pretty good singer today…"

"Thanks," I said cautiously. My heart jumped at the honesty in his voice when he said that, but a part of me lingered on the intimacy of the situation. Freddie started digging through the bottom drawer of his dresser, staying stonily quiet. My hand still tried to reach my zipper, and I groaned in frustration when I couldn't get a good enough grip to pull it down.

Freddie looked up and smiled lazily. "You need some help?"

"Uh," I bit my lip. Freddie, unzipping my clothes? I could've gotten Carly to just do it, but was it really such a big deal to drag her out of bed at one in the morning? I pulled my long hair up, getting it all out of the way. "Sure. Can you unzip me?"

Freddie hopped up and practically pressed his front to my back. His fingers lightly traced my back and I giggled. _Not my fault I'm ticklish. _His hands were warm as he pulled the zipper down to the small of my back. His warm breath reached the back of my neck, and I could hear my heart in my ears. The room was dead quiet, and all you could hear was the small noise of the zip of the zipper. The awkwardness was getting tangible, and I felt like I could reach out and karate-chop it in half. I let out a sigh and said the first thing I thought of. "Did you have fun tonight?"

I turned around, and looked at him in his eyes. I could tell he was searching for a lie, and I patiently waited for something. He looked away and started to distract himself by getting his bed ready to sleep in. "Yeah, it was good."

"I would've killed to see you get up on stage," I tried to laugh. Why did it feel so wrong for it to be this _awkward?_ "Sing a little Beiber, you know? Do a little hair flip," Freddie laughed, and I could feel the situation ease up a little. I bit my lip. Before I could even catch what I was saying, I let it slip. "Hey, I might've caught some Beiber fever if you did."

Freddie's face was unreadable, and I realized I was still sitting in my dress. This was the moment of truth. In the two weeks we've been roommates, we've managed to avoid the changing in the same room. But now, we were trapped. Carly was asleep in the other room, Gibby was taking a shower, and I wasn't gonna get undressed in the kitchen. Freddie was already getting undressed, so he obviously didn't think too much of it. So why should I? I turned around so that my chest was facing the wall, and I slipped the dress down to my feet.

"_You know you love me; I know you care. Just shout whenever, and I'll be there. You want my love, you want my heart. And we will never, ever, ever be apart,"_ Freddie was singing, and all I was standing in was a strapless bra and a pair of girly underwear. I peeked over my shoulder and noticed that Freddie was being a gentleman and wasn't checking me out, which made me smile. Beck, earlier, was quick to notice my body and look me up and down. It was flattering, but it felt… better to feel respected than to be drooled over. _"Are we an item? Girl quit playing. We're just friends? What are you saying? Said there's another? Look right in my eyes."_

Whether some subliminal message, or pure coincidence, I turned around and looked at him in the eyes, and I could see him smirk sexily. _Sexily? Oh no. No no no no no._ He took my hand and pulled me into some weird waltz position, and although I was two articles of clothing away from being completely naked, it was so comfortable around him. _'Cause you trust him, _I heard myself whisper in my head. His hand was firmly on my bare, lower back, but it dared not inch any lower.

He looked down at me and I couldn't stop laughing. _"My first love broke my heart for the first time. And I was like, 'Baby, baby, baby… ohh!' Like, 'Baby, baby, baby… noo!' Like, 'Baby, baby, baby… ohh!' I thought you'd always be mine, mine."_

I could feel that it was getting late, and I was definitely tired. Confused, too, but tired. I leaned all the way into Freddie's chest, and we slow-danced in silence. Just like my Beiber Fever comment, I was too tired to watch what I was saying. "What're you doing tomorrow?"

He lead me to my bed, and tucked me in. He scooted in right next to me, but I was under the covers and he wasn't. "My classes start tomorrow. But I get a two-hour break between Statistics and Physiological Psychology around noon."

Freddie was talking into my neck, and it felt good to have a guy so close to me. _Good. Not Freddie specifically, but just a guy in general._ "Stats and Physio-whatever? That doesn't sound like tech-savvy classes…"

"Naw," His breath tickled me, and I could sense that this position was too close for "just friends"… "I'm actually gonna focus on a psychology major. Become a doctor, ya know? Doctor Freddie. I could get used to that."

I smiled, and envied how he was so set on the future. I felt a weird comfort in that. "Doctor Loser, is more like it."

He laughed instead of getting mad, and his fingers started combing my hair. "So, do you wanna get lunch tomorrow? Maybe take Carly and Gibby?"

"No…" I hummed, starting to feel my eyes droop. "Just me and you…"

"I like that. So, noon it is?" He laughed, pretending it was the most hilarious joke in the world. I nodded and he realized how late it was. I felt him get up and readjust himself in his own bed. The blacklights were the only thing on at this point, and the neon paint was ablaze against the wall. "Goodnight Sam. I lo-o-o-ve you."

I could hear the tease in his voice, and I rolled my eyes. "Shut the hell up, Benson."

Time passed, and although I said some stuff half-asleep, I was wide awake. I was silently contemplating my feelings towards Freddie _(hopefully none at this point) _and debating this new relationship with Beck. God, I needed to sleep. Right when I started crossing over to Dreamland, my phone buzzed on the floor beside me.

I blindly reached for it in the darkness, and eventually grabbed it. It was a text message from Beck: **What r u doin 2mrrw? ;)**

My face was beaming at my tiny phone screen as I fumbled to text back: **Nothing. Pick me up at noon? :)**

**Oh shiznit. Freddie's gonna get blown off. Or is he? ;) **

**Sorry for the lack of updates lately. I've been working on various things, and this story was like, "Whatever" for at least a month. But I've been getting better at dedicating my time to this story, and to my readers. I love you guys. **

**So seriously. Lemme hear what you think of this chapter, and any predictions for upcoming chapters (AKA, review bitches). And as for my junk-drawer-drabble-series idea, I'm taking up song requests for songfics, maybe a request for a story that isn't a songfic, you know… If you ask for it, I probably will make it happen. **

**Check out my other story, too. ****Three Is Magic**** is what I think I named it. Yeah, I'm pimpin' out my own stories. Well, I'm bouncing between writing this, Facebook (feel free to add me; just look up my email), and **_**Jersey Shore. **_**So I'm gonna wrap this up.**

**Your reviews are the ghost stories to my George the Talking Bra~**

**Love, peace, and veganism,**

**Dr. Sam~**


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